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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700716">A Plague I Call A Heartbeat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomaniaBlack/pseuds/RomaniaBlack'>RomaniaBlack</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Atsumu Sakusa best friends, Bokuaka - Freeform, Dinner Date, Flirty Miya Atsumu, Haikyuu Olympics, Jealous Kageyama Tobio, M/M, MSBY Black Jackals - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Never Have I Ever, Oblivious Hinata Shouyou, Oblivious Ushijima Wakatoshi, POV Sakusa Kiyoomi, Pining Sakusa Kiyoomi, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Pro Volleyball Player Miya Atsumu, Pro Volleyball Player Sakusa Kiyoomi, Teen after Chapter 20, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, UshiSakuWeek2020, Ushisaku dating, Valentine's Day, Yaku Morisuke is So Done, date in Paris, haikyuu 402 spoilers, haikyuu rarepair, jealous sakusa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:22:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>66,454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomaniaBlack/pseuds/RomaniaBlack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kiyoomi Sakusa has been doing a great job of avoiding his admiration for a certain fellow wing spiker for nearly a decade.<br/>But the 2021 Olympics in Japan are about to make him confront his feelings...</p><p>...and no amount of hand sanitizer is going to stop the spread of certain emotions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou &amp; Hinata Shouyou &amp; Miya Atsumu &amp; Sakusa Kiyoomi, Haiba Lev/Yaku Morisuke, Hinata Shouyou &amp; Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou &amp; Oikawa Tooru, Komori Motoya &amp; Sakusa Kiyoomi, Komori Motoya &amp; Tobio Kageyama, Korai Hoshiumi/Shouko Hirugami, Miya Atsumu &amp; Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu &amp; Shoyo Hinata, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori &amp; Ushijima Wakatoshi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>297</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Scarlet Letter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Atsumu Miya was extraordinarily smug today. The corners of his mouth were curled mischievously, his hair swept to the side more dramatically than usual; back straightened with his hand glued to his side as he strode across the gymnasium. When he stopped to talk to someone, he threw a leg forward, his hip cocked at a noticeable angle. His entire aura was reminiscent of a 90’s cartoon villain. Yes, something had given Atsumu Miya a confidence boost today.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And the mystery of it was making Kiyoomi Sakusa want to vomit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This sensation was only compounded when Kiyoomi overheard Bokuto and Hinata’s conversation with Miya while stretching, because how could you </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>overhear their incredibly loud banter in a gymnasium with such good acoustics?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tsum-tsum, what’s got you in such a good mood?” Bokuto plopped down beside Atsumu for stretches, his face all-grin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmmm,” Atsumu hummed, his hand brushing through his hair, “I suppose you haven’t checked your mail yet, have you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm, no,” Bokuto’s expression became confused. “Akasshi usually gets the mail. Why?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Smart on Akaashi’s part</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kiyoomi mused internally. He couldn’t imagine Bokuto keeping track of any mail properly. He looked towards Miya for a reply. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Atsumu refused to answer, his head tilting coolly towards Hinata, “And what about you, Shoyo-kun? Any special letters show up at  your place?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hinata tapped a finger to his chin, his face childishly pensive, “I haven’t checked today...so….”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Omi-kun!” Atsumu transitioned to yelling at Kiyoomi, who rolled his eyes as he stretched forward, touching his feet, “What about you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that it’s any of your business,” the black-haired man sighed, “But no.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you mail us all gifts, Tsum-tsum?” Bokuto poked Atsumu’s arm, his face bobbing like an owl’s. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Atsumu’s face broke into a sly smile, “I didn’t mail anyone anything. Still,” stretched his arms forward, “There’s no point in me talking any more about it if you all haven’t checked your mail. So, forget I said anything.” He sighed gleefully, his face sinking towards the gym floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And that ended the conversation for the rest of the day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> Kiyoomi, whose very foundation necessitates completion, was driven mad by the tabled conversation. Every fiber in his being, every nerve, wanted to shake that bleach-blonde moron senseless until he revealed his motives; why he had been so cocky during practice all day and strutted around the gymnasium as if he owned it. He wanted to know what Atsumu was holding above all their heads, and as the practice drug on into the afternoon, one thought kept consuming every ounce of Kiyoomi’s mind:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have to check the mail when I get home. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kiyoomi Sakusa practically sprinted off the train to his apartment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Check it, check it, check it…</span>
  </em>
  <span> the mantra filled his head as he leapt up the stairs. Turning the corner, he nearly missed the door to his own apartment, he was running so fast. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The door opened and he reached down and grabbed the mail that had been slid through the metal slot. Despite his urgency, he would not forget his routine, though. After slipping his shoes off and closing the apartment door, he laid a paper towel, to later be disposed, on the kitchen counter and placed the mail on top of it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span> Bill, bill, junk, junk,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kiyoomi flipped through the envelopes, his eyes scanning quickly. His hands froze as he reached the fifth envelope. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had the official logo for the Japan Volleyball Association printed on it. Addressed specifically to Kiyoomi Sakusa, and not just “resident.” He laid the other envelopes down and carefully, with his letter opener, cleanly tore through the seal at the top. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unfolding the letter, his eyes scanned it hungrily. He suddenly realized why Atsumu had been intensely confident today.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a formal invitation to play on the Japan National Team for the 2021 Olympics, sent by none other than the coaches of the team and Tetsuro Kuroo, the head of promotions. Kiyoomi, after re-reading the letter a second and third time, slowly laid it down on the paper towel, washed his hands in the kitchen sink, and reached for his phone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There were two short rings and, as per usual, his cousin picked up on the third.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kiyoomi-kun!” His greeting was always the same. The dark haired wing spiker could feel Motoya’s smile from the other end of the line; there was a thick pause, “I’m assuming you checked your mail today?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just now, finally,” Kiyoomi realized the V. League group chat must be buzzing about the team selection. “Atsumu Miya was bouncing around like a cat in heat today, and wouldn’t tell us at all why he was riled up,” Kiyoomi spat, “His letter must have arrived yesterday.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I heard,” Motoya laughed, “He’s already told Tobio-kun that he’s going to be the lead setter.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course Kageyama made the team,” Kiyoomi noted bluntly, “No surprise there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm, Kiyoomi,” his cousin’s voice suddenly showed concern, “Have you </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>looked at the group chat?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t been on it for a few weeks.” The group chat tended to devolve into memes and lewd comments, and Kiyoomi found he had little time or energy to devote to it. “Why?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a pause, before Motoya finally replied, “Let me just send you the roster -- it was posted on there a little while ago.” Another moment of silence and then Kiyoomi’s cousin added, “Okay. Hang up and go check the screenshot I sent you, and then call me back.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Obeying, Kiyoomi ended the call and checked his texts. There was an image from the group chat that Motoya had sent him; a list of those on the roster for the National Japan Olympic Men’s Volleyball Team:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Tobio Kageyama</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Again, surprising no one</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kiyoomi mused, reading down the list. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Atsumu Miya</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His name being right under Kageyama’s</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kiyoomi thought with a smirk, </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course he’d be jealous.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Gao Hakuba</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kiyoomi hummed,</span>
  <em>
    <span> That’s the middle blocker from...Kamomedai, right?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Yudai Hyakuzawa</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No shock there. He’s the only reason the Railway Warriors are Division One.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Koutaro Bokuto</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Great, both morons made it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kiyoomi sighed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe the coaches didn’t want to pay for a mascot and opted for this instead...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Kiyoomi Sakusa</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Putting all the wing spikers together, I suppose.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Korai Hoshiumi</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, if they picked Kageyama, it only makes sense. Hoshiumi is an all-rounder...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Ojiro Aran</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kiyoomi’s eyes widened slightly,</span>
  <em>
    <span> Huh. Good. At least someone will be around to put Miya in his place. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Morisuke Yaku</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s the libero on the Russian Super League from Nekoma.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kiyoomi was impressed they dragged someone from the foreign leagues</span>
  <em>
    <span>, Kuroo pulled some strings, it seems...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Motoya Komori</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kiyoomi sighed, relieved. His cousin would thankfully be there for him to retreat to when Bokuto and Atsumu became too much to handle. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Shoyo Hinata</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Lovely. And at least there’s a distraction for dumb and dumber, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kiyoomi thought, inhaling. His gaze flitted to the last name on the list and he froze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Wakatoshi Ushijima</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Not in the slightest. Because of course Ushijima would be chosen for the National Team. But for some reason, the name resting there on the page, staring back at him, made him uneasy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tearing his eyes from the letter, Kiyoomi called his cousin back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>And</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” Motoya let out an incredulous laugh, “What do you mean, ‘and?’”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There wasn’t a surprising name on the list,” Kiyoomi’s brow furrowed, “except perhaps that middle blocker from Kamomedai. What team did he play for in the V. League--?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kiyoomi-kuuuuun,” his cousin groaned, and the dark haired man could have swore he heard the sound of Motoya slapping his own forehead on the other end of the line, “Do I have to spell it out for you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Spell what out?” Kiyoomi was confused at this point.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just going to say it, because it’s going to hit you eventually and then you’ll be calling me at 4 am having a meltdown,” Motoya sighed. “The National Team? Ushijima’s on it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I saw,” Kiyoomi’s eyes narrowed. “Is that surprising?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kiyoomi-kun,” Motoya said slowly, deliberately, “We are going to be attending training camps, practices -- nearly every day-- staying in the same dorms and traveling in the same vehicles as Wakatoshi Ushijima.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, obviously, we--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“--are,” Kiyoomi sputtered, finishing the sentence. Motoya exhaled on the other end of the line, as if inhabiting a space inside Sakusa’s head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>...Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The realization came hurtling that for the first time he was going to be spending more than just an afternoon game in the same space as Wakatoshi Ushijima, a man Kiyoomi had been secretly -- with the exception of his cousin knowing -- in admiration of the last ten years of his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ohh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kiyoomi breathed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had lied earlier. Atsumu trying to be cool and mysterious had been disgusting, sure, but this; </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>sensation was going to make Kiyoomi Sakusa vomit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a pause, as Kiyoomi calmly set the phone down on the kitchen counter, before running towards the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.   </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Motoya slowly pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at it with a raised eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He does know I can’t see him from this end of the phone, right?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>AUTHOR'S NOTES:</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Generalized Anxiety</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kiyoomi preps for the National Japan Team first-practice weekend.<br/>Nothing to worry about, right?</p><p>a.k.a. This National Team is already giving him anxiety.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Just breathe,” Motoya Komori advised slowly into the phone. “It’s going to be alright.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>alright</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kiyoomi Sakusa huffed, pacing back and forth along the island in his kitchen, one arm folded against him while the other held the phone close to his ear, “If it were just you, myself, and Ushijima for the next few months.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori rolled his eyes with a smile, “Oh, come on; your team isn’t that ba--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Kiyoomi cut him off, his voice a rising growl, “Most of my team are fine! It’s dumb, dumber, and dumbest who are going to make this experience a living nightmare!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Motoya pressed a finger to his chin, “Okay, so I’m guessing Shoyo is the ‘dumb’ one, so that means--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am not sure I can do this,” Kiyoomi paused to stand in the middle of his kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you have to,” Motoya snapped back, his tone suddenly parental. “You’re on the National Team -- something we both have been working towards since middle school! Who cares if the man you just happen to like is also on the team? Who cares if you’re surrounded by a bunch of morons -- that will just make you stand out more as the saner one!” Komori clasped his mouth shut at that last remark. Maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>had gone too far just then.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a pause on the end of the line, followed by a slow exhale. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Motoya,” Kiyoomi breathed, “That is brilliant.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The libero blinked, “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” Kiyoomi started again, his voice gaining momentum, “Why should I worry what those buffoons do around Ushijima? Them looking ridiculous will only make me look that much better by comparison!” The black haired wing spiker straightened, as he let a small smirk spread across his lips, “This could work to my advantage.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From the other end of the line, Komori breathed a sigh of relief. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Crisis averted.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “See? I told you, Kiyoomi-kun. Now, go check out the group chat! Hoshiumi just posted a list of items the coaches want us to make sure we pack. I’ve got extra ankle weights if you want a pair.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa scoffed into the phone, “I already purchased three pairs of my own, thank you, when we had our training camp last fall against the Green Rockets. And as if I would wear someone else’s training equipment.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Motoya shook his head, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ever prepared, my cousin,</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Good. Get on there, anyway, though. Yaku and Hoshiumi are giving Atsumu hell about needing to touch up his roots; apparently Bokuto saw a gray hair on Atsumu’s track jacket and is now trying to convince him to dye his hair to match.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kiyoomi sighed, “is why I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>get on the group chat.” </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Motoya Komori had grown up alongside Sakusa since Elementary School. He was not a man to break from routine, and was textbook once you got to know him:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anything he started, it was finished. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anything he handled, it was with the utmost care and delicacy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anything he interacted with, it was done so with extreme cleanliness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, of course, it was no surprise to him when he visited the next day, that Sakusa already had his suitcases packed and organized in a neat stack beside the apartment door, ready to go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know we don’t leave until the weekend?” Motoya smiled, shuffling past the luggage and into the living room space. Kiyoomi eyed him cautiously, and his cousin let out a small laugh, “Yeah, I know, I know,” he added, making his way to the sink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s ritual for house guests, which he rarely had, was that they wash their hands upon entry into the apartment -- after their shoes were off, of course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was finishing up his afternoon meditation -- it was the only thing he had picked up from Shoyo Hinata. After Shoyo insisted on holding a meditation exercise with the team last year, the dark haired wing spiker found that it actually did help him relax and take his mind away from any other stressors he had going on at the moment. Since he had begun to make it his every-other-day regime, he couldn’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop </span>
  </em>
  <span>meditating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I still need to finish packing,” Motoya mused, sitting down on the couch beside him, thumbing through his phone. “Have you been on the group chat this week?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Sakusa finished his meditation and stood, arms stretched overhead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Motoya hummed, not looking at his cousin, “I don’t know...Ushijima’s latest couple of posts have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty interesssst</span>
  </em>
  <span>--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi had already crossed the room, walking swiftly to the bathroom. It was a quick shower, and shortly thereafter, Sakusa returned from the bathroom, in fresh clothes, his hair towel-dried and curly. He grabbed his phone out of its protective sleeve on the kitchen counter, Motoya laughing at how quickly he’d showered and came back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi scrolled through the chat, pausing at the parts about Atsumu and his hair, unable to resist the urge to catch a glimpse at the setter getting teased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>V.LEAGUE GROUP CHAT</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yaku</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: So, Bokuto, Kuroo said you noticed Atsumu Miya turning gray?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Bokuto</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: OH YEAH!! Tsum-Tsum’s goin gray!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Miya</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: It was ONE gray hair...and it probably wasn’t mine. It was probably yours.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hoshiumi</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Why would you have Bokuto hair on your jacket?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yaku</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: …</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Kageyama</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Maybe he let Bokuto borrow it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hoshiumi</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Maybe he was sniffing it in the locker rooms</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Miya</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: You are GROSS, rat with wings! And NOOOO I was not!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yaku</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: So you are turning gray, then?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Bokuto</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Only Akaashi gets to borrow my jacket!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hinata</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Your roots did grow out last year in quarantine</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yaku</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: BUT WERE THEY GRAY, HINATA?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hakuba</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Why are we talking about Atsumu again?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Kageyama</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: My sister could bleach your roots if you want. She’s a hair stylist.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Miya</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP OR SYMPATHY BAKAYAMA</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hinata</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: I taught him that nickname! ^^</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the conversation devolved further from there. Kiyoomi sighed, shaking his head, ignoring Motoya’s “Oh, you finally saw it!” and scrolled down some more. Eventually, after what seemed like pages of emojis and all-caps text, he spotted a “U” name and raised his thumb from the screen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hoshiumi</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: The Coach assigned us roommates</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yaku</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: 4 in a room right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Bokuto</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: WHO’S ROOMING WITH ME?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hinata: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>ME!!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Miya:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> I’m With Bokuto and Hinata!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Bokuto:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> YES, MY STUDENT!!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yaku:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Of course you are Miya</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hoshiumi:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Why would the coaches put you three in a room together?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Aran:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Don’t worry. I’m in there with them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yaku:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Oh I’m so sorry…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Miya:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Aran-Kunnnnnnn! ^^</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Ushijima</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: What are the other roommate assignments?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hoshiumi</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Hold on, here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gull-haired spiker uploaded a picture that Kiyoomi clicked on, which roommate listings in groups of four:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Room 1: Koutaro Bokuto, Atsumu Miya, Ojiro Aran, Shoyo Hinata</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Room 2: Korai Hoshiumi, Morisuke Yaku, Gao Hakuba, Yudai Hyakuzawa</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Room 3: Tobio Kageyma, Motoya Komori, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Kiyoomi Sakusa</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Room 4: Coach Fuki Hibarida and Athletic Trainer Haijime Iwaizumi</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi stared long and hard at the list, his eyes scanning over it several times. Motoya, from the couch, let his grin grow wider and wider as he saw the realization hit Sakusa’s face. The group chat continued:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hoshiumi</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Did they just put the shortest people with the tallest??!?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Miya</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: It’s called BALANCE, Hoshi-kun!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hinata</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: But I’m not with you all!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Ushijima</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: These room assignments look fine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Motoya</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: I think our room will be the only one that gets any sleep, Ushijima-San! ^^</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Kiyoomi raised his head from his phone to toss his cousin a skeptical look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I’m not complaining about the room assignments,” Komori shrugged, “and seriously! Did you see who’s in those other rooms? I </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>for Aran!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was true, out of all the rooming assignments, Sakusa’s roommates were all well-mannered and quiet...</span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe that’s why they put Kageyama in our room. He is the main setter after all, so him being rested for the game would be of vital importance.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“True, but Aran can get Atsumu up in the mornings, and neither Bokuto nor Hinata ever run out of energy, so even if they’re wired, they’ll somehow be okay the next day.” Sakusa sat down in the chair opposite Motoya, still eying the rooming schedule. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori watched his cousin scan his phone, a small smirk playing across his lips. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Those coaches aren’t dumb, he thought casually. They know how particular Kiyoomi is about his space and hygiene. It only makes sense they roomed him with the most cautious and well-maintained people on the team.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi caught Motoya’s smirk out of the corner of his eye and shot him a glare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get that look on your face,” Sakusa sneered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori’s face went blank, blinking innocently, “What look?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just because we are rooming with them for this first training weekend,” Sakusa frowned, “doesn’t mean anything is going to develop or change between Ushijima and myself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t say it was!” Komori scoffed, but his eyes were gleaming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi rose to his feet, giving his cousin a stern glare, “You’ve always wanted to play matchmaker with me and Ushijima,” he said coldly, “We’re going to this camp to start getting ready for the Olympics. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That </span>
  </em>
  <span>should be our priority.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Motoya gave his cousin a gentle smile, “I know that. It’s fine, Kiyoomi-kun. Promise, I won’t try to start anything between you two!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Kiyoomi looked satisfied, walking towards the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori watched him walk away, noticing that Kiyoomi was still staring at his phone, no doubt at the group chat and no doubt, at Ushijima’s contributions to the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, no,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa’s cousin mused, hand resting in his palm, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kiyoomi wasn’t going to be distracted at allllll this coming training camp.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTES:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yes, it’s a slow start, but it’s Kiyoomi Sakusa, and everything has a proper set up, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Next Chapter -- getting settled in, and seeing the room dynamics!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hope you’re liking the story!</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Cordilla Conundrum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chaos, Condor, Control, and Coach -- those were the code names for their rooms. </p><p>Yes, “control”...that was what Kiyoomi was going to be a master of this weekend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Japan National team all arrived at the training camp at various times. The Sendai gymnasium had been kind enough to loan its gym, since it was “off season” to them for the week. Shoyo Hinata had pulled some strings requesting from Kozume Kenma, who had a lengthy list of sponsorships tied to the Japan Volleyball Association, and was able to get the gym secured. Tetsuro Kuroo would later state his involvement had “sealed the deal,” though Kenma would just shake his head and swivel in his chair away from the conversation, as was per the norm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In any case, aside from Coach Hibarida and Athletic Trainer Iwaizumi, Shoyo Hinata arrived at the gym first, Tobio Kageyama not far behind, as he’d been visiting his sister in the area. Ushijima arrived shortly thereafter, visiting his mother’s family in the area as well. Yudai Hyakuzawa, towering over the other three Miyagi natives, was the last local to arrive first. He shyly greeted the three, Shoyo bounding towards him enthusiastically to rattle off highlights he’d seen from Hyakuzawa’s latest game.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were incredible in that last rally!” The tangerine-haired man beamed, “That block on Kiryu-san’s spike! And how Goshiki-kun tried to do that cross shot and you deflected it back! It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Hinata rambled on, as Hyakuzawa scratched the back of his head sheepishly, humbled by the pro player’s words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shoyo-Kun!” Atsumu Miya’s voice echoed in the open gymnasium, as the setter sauntered forward with his bags, “In a praising mood already? Let me get in line!” He smirked, taking extra pride in the disgusted look it generated from Kageyama. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ojiro Aran shook his head, trailing behind Atsumu with his luggage as well, “He hasn’t shut up about you since we took off,” the wing spiker dipped his head and shook Shoyo’s hand, “great to meet you off the court, finally!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, same here, Aran-san!” Shoyo bowed curtly and shook his hand vigorously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was followed by Gao Hakuba and Korai Hoshiumi, both of whom looked like they’d also traveled together, as they entered at exactly the same time and were engaged in conversation with one another. Korai tilted his head up towards Ushijima and Kageyama, “Yo!” He greeted, to which the two nodded back and replied likewise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Tokyo crowd filtered in last. Bokuto, arms splayed wide over his head, bounced into the gymnasium next, shouting Shoyo’s name as the orange-haired man leapt towards him. It was clear Shoyo Hinata was going to be the most popular person at the training camp. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Naturally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Coach Hibarida smiled, watching Bokuto and Hinata enthusiastically bumping chests, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shoyo Hinata had that effect on people. It’s only natural why Kuroo chose him to be one of the Japan Volleyball Association’s promotional figures. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi and Motoya were next to arrive from Tokyo -- they traveled together, since the two lived fairly close. Motoya Komori waved a hand enthusiastically in the air towards the group, his face a wide grin. “Hey everyone!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Omi-kun! You made it!” Bokuto grinned, bouncing towards Sakusa, who side-stepped to avoid the owl-haired man’s embrace. He side-stepped again to avoid Shoyo, who was similarly bouncing towards him. Finally, he passed Atsumu, who was giving him a sly, knowing grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re not going to try and hug me, too?” Kiyoomi snarked from beneath his mask.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The setter laughed, “Oh, I’ll get you at some point, Omi-Omi,” His eyebrow waggled and Sakusa sneered, walking past him. His eyes immediately locked onto Ushijima, who was standing behind him, conversing with Hoshiumi and Kageyama.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just a split second, but Kiyoomi had enough time in that moment to give Ushijima a quick once-over. He hadn’t seen the ace in a few months, so he soaked in how his hair had grown slightly shaggier, almost reaching his eyebrows; his forearms appeared bigger, somehow, and his chest broader. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Had he been working out more in preparation for this weekend?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kiyoomi suddenly resented the fact that he hadn’t changed his own exercise procedures to match--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Earth to Omi-kun!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa flinched and his eyes tore away to find where the voice had come from; he noticed Bokuto staring at him with an eyebrow raised, head cocked to the side, not unlike a bemused owl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Sakusa hissed, keenly aware of Atsumu’s sly smile and Hinata’s gleaming eyes on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said,” Bokuto chuckled, “That it’s a shame all us Black Jackals couldn’t room together! Don’t you agree, Omi-Kun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hardly,” Sakusa frowned underneath his mask, his eyes narrowing, as Bokuto and Shoyo looked equally deflated, “This whole camp is to make us stronger for the Olympics -- rooming with you three would be entirely unconducive to that point.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu scoffed, “Excuse me, Omi-Omi, but I believe we could have roomed together fine!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi gave Atsumu’s words a moment to stew; true, Atsumu wasn’t a particularly bad roommate when they had been on the road for tournaments. He was a well-groomed man, and took his personal hygiene seriously enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> However, instant images from the past of Atsumu’s clothes strung across the floor, his shoes kicked off the side of the hotel room lazily, and him stretched out on one of the double-beds, whining and lamenting that Shoyo was on the phone with Kageyama in the hallway flashed across his mind, causing him to sigh, and walk away without replying to Atsumu. The setter stared, open-mouthed in shock, as both Shoyo and Bokuto burst into laughter; Aran patted him sympathetically on the back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kageyama,” Motoya, ever the conversation starter, smiled at the setter, “I’m glad we get to room with you and Ushijima-san!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same here,” Kageyama nodded, “We might actually get </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>sleep in our room.” He glanced hesitantly over to the “MSBY crew,” where Atsumu, complaining on his hands and knees in embarrassment from his previous conversation, Aran chuckling, while Bokuto and Hinata looked like they were about to wet themselves with laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I said!” Komori agreed with a laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima just nodded, his eyes glancing towards Sakusa, “I agree as well.” Sakusa was glad he had his mask on, as he was sure there was pink dusting his cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank God we have the normal room,” Sakusa managed to say as casually as possible, as the gym opened and the final team member entered the gymnasium.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morisuke Yaku was one to make a dramatic, fashionably late entrance; dressed in a posh silver three-piece suit, his coat was casually laid over his arm, the other hauling his polished suitcase. Stopping in front of the staring team, he flicked his aviator shades off with a dramatic, satisfied sigh, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, our lead libero is here,” He said with a sarcastic smirk, “So we can start practice now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a moment’s pause, as if the team was trying to gauge if Yaku was serious or not. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>been known as the “demon senpai” in high school...and </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the Russian Super League, now.</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Motoya innocently poked his head from around Sakusa’s side, “That’s what I just told everyone!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone’s eyes trailed from Komori to Yaku, who stared at the other libero for a moment, before bursting into laughter. The tension instantly cleared the air, and everyone sighed and chuckled at the exchange.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ha! If you had told me back in high school that one day, I would be on the same National team as my rival libero,” Yaku slapped Komori on the back, “I would have said they were crazy! How are you, Komori-san?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coach Hibarida let the teammates chat for a little while longer, Iwaizumi catching up with Ushijima and Kageyama, the three of them excitedly discussing the possibility of playing against Argentina in the Olympics. Sakusa stood out to the side, pretending not to listen to their conversation. He didn’t know the entire story of why the three seemed so eager to face Argentina, but it had something to do with their setter, a former player from Miyagi had been on the same team as Iwaizumi. It struck him as odd; Sakusa had no clue who this “Shittykawa” or Oikawa was, but clearly he was viewed with both reverence by the three, and was simultaneously the subject of ridicule in their conversation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How good could he have been, though?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa mused, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t recall ever hearing about him at Nationals in high school.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teams eventually parted into their groups of four, heading to their individual dorm rooms, which were essentially the sizes of their team clubhouses in high school, only with two sets of bunk beds and a bathroom connected to the side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coach Hibarida said that we would all have breakfast together in the common area,” Komori noted, sliding his duffel bag off his shoulder and onto the floor. “I’m good with taking the top bunk on this side, if no one has any arguments.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine with me,” Kageyama replied first, “I’ll take the top of the other one, I guess.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m used to the bottom bunk at my old dorm,” Ushijima noted coolly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t immediately reply, as he soaked up the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was much smaller than he anticipated. Despite having the beds being bunks, it didn’t leave a lot of room and there only being one bathroom to split between the four of them was already giving Sakusa a wave of claustrophobia. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There would be less area space to sanitize, though, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe once everyone left for breakfast, he could scrub up before joining them downstairs...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Motoya caught the nervousness in the wing spiker’s eyes as he glanced around the room, deciding to speak up before the other two questioned, “Sakusa’s always taken the bottom bunk at training camps, so it should be fine, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Motoya’s voice led Kiyoomi back to reality. “Erm, yes.” He replied stiffly, “I’m going to get my bathroom items settled,” He added, shuffling quickly past the three. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Komori sighed; the “adjustment period” for Sakusa was always the hardest. Everything had to be in order for him, and it took him several hours to conform to a new space. Motoya had wondered for the longest time how in the world he’d managed to make it traveling with Miya and the others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He…may be in there a while,” Motoya smiled nervously towards Ushijima and Kageyama, “He’s pretty particular about how he sets everything up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kageyama shrugged, but it was Ushijima who responded first,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is fine. I can keep my items in my bag until I use them, if there’s not enough space to set them out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Same,” Kageyama nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Motoya found himself grinning, despite himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This may just work.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re giving the rooms code names,” Yaku declared, when the team met back up in the common area. They were eating lunch together before Coach Hibarida debriefed them on the training schedule for the week. The twelve players were divided between four tables back to back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awesome!” Shoyo’s grin was ear-to-ear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why code names?” Aran’s questioned in between bites of his rice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’ll make it easier in the group chat,” Yaku explained matter-of-fact. “Our room already hashed them out as we were unpacking.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Spit it out!” Hinata and Bokuto egged the libero. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku smiled, pointing directly at the two over-eager spikers, “Your room is code name: Chaos!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ooooh!” Bokuto and Hinata simultaneously replied; Atsumu, who had been resting his head in his palm, lifted his face from his hand to sneer, “Seriously?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Yaku triumphantly declared, “And Ojiro Aran is named Room Leader!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, that was expected,” Motoya said quietly to Sakusa sitting across him, clearly amused by the display before him. Sakusa nodded silently as Yaku continued. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Our room is code name: Condor!” Hoshiumi let out a whoop and threw his arms victoriously up in the air.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Condor? What’s that mean?” Hinata tilted his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>the master of aerial combat, and condors like to perch up high, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>we do have the two tallest players on the team in our room!” Hoshiumi replied, motioning dramatically towards Hyakuzawa and Hakuba. “Plus, there’s Yaku-san, who agreed to the name on the condition we make him Room Leader,” Hoshiumi added, crossing his arms at his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We wanted to keep with the ‘C’ theme for code names,” Yaku added, proudly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why not just go with ‘Chikuwa’,” Atsumu teased, “Since yer all a bunch of sausag--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And next,” Yaku cut off, continuing, pointing towards Sakusa’s group, ignoring as Hoshiumi smacked Atsumu across the table, “Code name: Control!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Motoya eyed the other libero curiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Yaku mused, “I was going to say ‘Chill,’ but Hoshiumi-san pointed out that both Kageyama and Sakusa-san tend to have a lack of said ‘chill,’ so this seemed more fitting.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have chill!” Kageyama yelled, earning a giggle from Hinata across the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Sakusa merely pursed his lips and took another bite of ramen. He noticed Atsumu, who had fended off Hoshiumi by this point, giving him a knowing smirk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll notice Omi-Omi didn’t deny it,” Atsumu’s smirk widened, “I personally would have gone with ‘Team Cooties’ or ‘Team Contagion’--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And that is why you weren’t in charge of the room names,” Yaku interrupted again, clapping his hands together. “Okay? Sounds good, everyone? Obviously, the other room will be Codename: Room “Coach,” since Hibarida-san and Iwaizumi-san are in it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chatter around the tables continued from there, everyone talking about what they were going to expect from practice that day as they finished their lunch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was normally a quiet eater, and his eyes flitted around his table, soaking in the actions and conversation of his peers. Kageyama had his back turned, yelling over his shoulder to Hinata at the other table behind them, sharing some apparently scandalous story to Atsumu Miya, whose hand raised dramatically to his mouth; feigning shock. Sakusa’s cousin, sitting beside Tobio, was chuckling at the setter’s embarrassed reaction, while also turning to try and read Hinata’s lips as he conversed with Miya. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima, on the other hand, was seated next to Sakusa and quietly eating his ramen. He seemed to be observing just as Sakusa was. Finally, his eyes glanced down at Sakusa’s dish.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The ramen here is quite good,” He said with a solemn expression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wasn’t sure why Ushijima of all people would be making small talk with him, so he shrugged, “It’s adequate. I’ve had better in the city.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’s eyes widened ever-so-slightly, “You will have to let me know which places are good in Tokyo. I’ve been to a few, but they were disappointing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His request caught the curly-haired man momentarily off guard, as he shifted slightly in his seat, “Erm, of course. There’s a few that are good. I’ll...write them down later for you in the room.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would appreciate that,” Ushijima nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, he caught that Komori had turned back around in his seat and had his head tilted downward, scooping a bit of rice. Despite his head turned down, Sakusa could clearly see the smirk on his cousin’s face. Yaku’s words rang in his ears, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Room Codename: Control.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No problem,” Sakusa replied bluntly, taking another bite of ramen, ignoring the goosebumps that were surfacing on his arm under his track jacket at the exchange.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, ‘control’.</span>
  </em>
  <span>..that was what Kiyoomi was going to be a master of this weekend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Completely in control.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTES:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This chapter ended up much longer than I anticipated, but writing these characters is <em>soooo</em> much fun...I hope you enjoyed the prelude to the fun that’s in store!</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Next chapter: Day One of Nationals Training...and Night One of Camp. ^^</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Leezle Pon Upon The Court</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The first day of Olympic Training Camp!<br/>The Japan National Olympic Volleyball Team gets settled in...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first order of business  following lunch was debriefing the training that was to come the next several months in preparation for the 2021 Olympics. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There would be this week’s training camp, followed by regular practices throughout the upcoming months and a few additional training camps that would feature other teams practicing against them. It was basically going to be their high school volleyball days on steroids. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coach Hibarida turned the debriefing over to Iwaizumi, who went over a full series of stretches, exercise routines, and weekly physical training regimens that the team were to follow to help keep their bodies in shape with all of the practices they would be participating in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the end of the talk, there was a palpable excitement spreading through the group. “This feels like high school again!” Shoyo whispered excitedly towards Bokuto, who nodded enthusiastically in response. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We will be doing two-on-two drills today,” Coach Hibarida announced at the conclusion of the debriefing. “Your four person groups will need to be split into groups of two. Iwaizumi-san?” He turned to the athletic trainer beside him, who stepped forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To keep the training camp competitive, we are going to offer prizes to the winners of each training exercise we do,” Iwaizumi smiled wide, “So pick your teams well!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gym was abuzz as the groups separated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How should we split up?” Ushijima looked his roommates over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Motoya stroked his chin, pensive, “We need both groups to be solid, so we can go as far as we can competing today.” He looked towards Kageyama, “I think the obvious choice would be for Ushijima and Kageyama to pair up and Kiyoomi-kun and I to partner. What do you think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve played with Ushijima the most, so it would make sense for me to set for him. Can you set it for Sakusa-san?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Motoya laughed loudly, causing Kiyoomi to flinch, “Only since we were children! Well, that was easy, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded, feeling a twinge of excitement at the prospect to play against Ushijima hopefully that afternoon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi noted all of the team splits and, alongside Coach Hibarida, drew the teams who would face each other that afternoon: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Match #1: Yazu and Hyakuzawa vs. Kageyama and Ushijima</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Match #2: Bokuto and Hinata vs. Hoshiumi and Hakuba</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Match #3: Miya and Aran vs. Komori and Sakusa</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first match pitted Nekoma’s former libero and the tallest player on the team against the “Southpaw cannon” and Karasuno’s “genius setter.” The game lasted longer than expected, despite Kageyama having the clear advantage as an experienced setter, Ushijima found his spikes being dug up by Yaku, much to the amazement of the other teammates.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Woahhh! Ushiwaka’s spikes are intense, but Yaku-san is digging them like they’re nothing!” Hinata’s eyes were saucers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not surprising,” Bokuto shook his head, arms crossed at his chest, “Yaku was one of the best liberos in the nation when we were in high school.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a shame our schools didn’t face Shiratorizawa more often,” Komori lamented, turning to give his cousin a smirk, “Don’t you agree, Sakusa?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi shot Motoya a frown, “Obviously, our team still would have won.” He said bluntly, giving his cousin a </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t-you-dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> look. Motoya just grinned knowingly back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, despite Yaku being one of the best liberos, and Hyakuzawa’s incredible height, the two couldn’t overpower the level of experience Kageyama and Ushijima had playing alongside each other, and “Team Control” took the first match. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The second match was arguably the wildest matchup, as it pitted Bokuto and Hinata versus Hoshiumi and Hakuba. This match was more evenly distributed, as neither pairing had a setter, and the two smallest spikers on the team were comparable in talent and skill. Both teammates had also played with one another for years. The big difference in this matchup was between Bokuto and Hakuba. Despite Hakuba’s incredible chemistry with Hoshiumi, Hakuba was not a setter, and his tosses were uneven. He also wasn’t a spiker, so when Hoshiumi set, his spikes weren’t the most accurate. Bokuto’s long-held status as ace proved useful, as did Hinata’s ability to set on the fly, from all his years of two-on-two beach volleyball competitions. Despite Hoshiumi being the better all around player of the match, “Team Chaos” came out on top.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe ‘Team Condor’ was shut down in the first exercise,” Yaku groaned, as his teammates gulped down water post-match.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what?” Hoshiumi wasn’t deterred, “We’ll get them in the next round. Stupid Hinata and his beach volleyball training,” he muttered under  his breath as he wiped his brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The final first-round match was Atsumu Miya and Ojiro Aran versus Motoya Komori and Kiyoomi Sakusa. “You’re going to go easy on me, eh, Omi-Omi?” Atsumu gave a faux pout, as he crossed under the net to his side with Aran. Sakusa ignored him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The winner of this match had the chance to play against Ushijima. Sakusa narrowed his eyes and stared back to Motoya, “Like in grade school?” He asked simply. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu tilted his head in confusion and Aran raised an eyebrow. Motoya just smiled sweetly, but there was a devilish curve to his grin. “Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi was all too familiar with Komori and Sakusa’s skill set; it was exactly like his and Oikawa’s. It was clear the two had played together for nearly their whole lives, and despite years of playing on different pro teams, the two instantly meshed on the court. Motoya wasn’t a setter, but he was one of the best liberos in the country, and was used to jumping in bounds and doing emergency sets on the fly, which benefited him here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu, though, was a natural setter, and had an advantage in that area over Komori. But with Aran versus Sakusa, well, the curly-haired spiker was the top ace in Japan all during high school for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>reason</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And to add insult to injury, any time Aran or Miya nailed a spike past Kiyoomi, his cousin was right there to dig it up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Spoiled for choice,” Iwaizumi chuckled, as Kiyoomi’s wrist flicked, the volleyball spinning with just enough momentum to ricochet off Aran’s arm and fly off court; securing victory for the two former Itachiyama players.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a feeling that was payback for us taking Nationals our second year,” Aran chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Motoya laughed in response, “Hmmm, maybe!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s hands were already at his hips, his body dipping slightly as he panted, “Omi-kunnnn...no fair.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How was me beating you unfair?” Sakusa raised an eyebrow, but his eyes had a triumphant glint.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your libero can also set! It’s not fair!” Atsumu whined, Aran chuckling beside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori gripped part of the net, casting a sickeningly sweet glance towards the setter, his eyes gleaming darkly, “Maybe you just need to get better at receiving, Miya-san.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu back stepped in horror, his arms waving ahead of him defensively. Aran looked like he might collapse from laughing so hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>UGH</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Omi-Omi, your cousin is terrifying!” Atsumu looked towards his Black Jackals teammate, but Sakusa was already walking off-court, rolling his eyes at the over-dramatic setter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since two of our teams are from the same room, they’ll compete first to see who plays Hinata and Bokuto,” Iwaizumi announced. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Motoya slid behind Sakusa, quietly noting, “Not trying to conceal your excitement, are you, Kiyoomi-kun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The curly-haired spiker spun around, frowning at his smirking cousin, when he realized that he had in fact allowed a smile to pass his lips just a moment earlier. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re not wearing a mask right now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sakusa reminded himself. It was usually easier to hide his emotions when he was out in public, but on the court, he felt everything was bare and in the open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes glanced over to Ushijima, surprised to find him eying him from across the net. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While his face was mostly unreadable, there was a familiar competitive gleam in the ace’s eye; one Sakusa had seen countless times throughout their matches against one another over the years. Mask or no mask, Sakusa couldn’t help but offer a small, competitive smile in return, bending his knees slightly as Kageyama was about to do the first serve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two groups were fine-oiled machines on the court. Kageyama and Ushijima were stable, consistent; strong. Their constant power was something that had attracted Hibarida to picking them for the Olympic team in the first place. Motoya and Kiyoomi were both consistent as well, but there was a trace of unpredictability to the pair -- that is, for their opponents. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s wrists allowed him to put a wicked spin on the volleyball, altering its trajectory to where it was difficult at times for even Kageyama to bump, and Motoya, while lacking in blocking ability, made up for it with his quick, consistent receives, that left Yaku cheering from the sidelines. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stomp ‘em, Komori!” Yaku called out, wanting revenge for being defeated earlier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori was also fine-tuned with Sakusa’s habits; after all, if you’ve spent most of your life receiving serves and spikes from the number one ace in the country, wouldn’t that also make you the top libero? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The game remained at a deuce for some time, the score bouncing back and forth with serves being the primary point-breaker. The former Itachiyama pair had to admit Kageyama had them beat in that department, though serves were more inconsistent for Ushijima, so they were able to keep up. Motoya received Kageyama’s latest serve, the ball smacking off his arms and flying straight towards the ceiling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kiyoomi-kun!” Motoya yelled, as Sakusa’s eyes traced where the ball was falling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a split second, Sakusa wondered what to do. The ball was coming down on the right hand side, where Ushijima was...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Did he try to spike it past Ushijima? Did he try to curve it towards Kageyama, who hadn’t been the best at receiving his spikes? But if he did, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kiyoomi thought suddenly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’d be bumping it right to Ushijima for his own spike. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could try to pass it back to Komori to dump, but the last time they’d tried it, Kageyama had read the move far too easily and shut the shorter libero down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was really only one option. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the ball fell towards Sakusa, he curved his wrist, his palm flexing to the side of the ball, and slapped it forward. The ball weaved with a sideways arc and sailed smoothly under Ushijima’s outstretched arms, smacking the gym floor and flying towards the other teammates; Aran caught it as Yaku jumped up to cheer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Motoya and Sakusa win!” Iwaizumi clapped. The other teammates followed suit. “We’ll take a quick break before they face Hinata and Bokuto!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa stood next to the net, breathing heavily. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just barely</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought with a sigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good game,” Kageyama offered his hand to Komori, who shook it enthusiastically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Of course! You really had us on the ropes with those serves!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was about to turn to walk from the net, when he spotted Ushijima’s outstretched hand under it. The ace’s face was stoic, emotionless, but his eyes were still gleaming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice kill,” Ushijima offered, the hand sticking out towards Sakusa.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, the curly-haired man contemplated what to do. He rarely actually shook hands during matches; preferring to bow in actual high school and pro competitions. It was a common understanding the other players had of Sakusa; it was customary, it was just his style. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But despite all the years of routine, Kiyoomi Sakusa for a split moment found his mind blank, as he quickly gripped the southpaw’s hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he muttered bluntly, the words tumbling from his mouth just as fast as his hand rescinded from Ushijima. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been a split second action, but Sakusa found his hand tingling from the sensation. And warm. In fact, his whole face felt like it was on fire. Surely, no one from the team would notice; they’d likely assume he was just flushed from the scrimmage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He headed straight towards the bathroom to wash his hands, not noticing his cousin staring at him with his mouth parted open; the only one who had paid attention to the exchange between him and Ushijima. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The final round was Hinata and Bokuto versus Sakusa and Motoya. Surprisingly, Hinata had become an all around player similar to Hoshiumi, and was able to receive well, thanks to his years on the beach in Rio. It made for a surprisingly long-winded matchup, with everyone by the last few points cheering them on. Coach Hibarida leaned over towards Iwaizumi, who was taking notes on a clipboard for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Normally, I’d say Hinata and Bokuto would be more evenly matched by their challengers,” the coach began, but Iwaizumi finished his sentence,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But for Sakusa and Komori, this is their third scrimmage back-to-back.” The coach nodded silently in reply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it showed. The two former Itachiyama players were drenched in sweat, exhausted, and looked like their legs were about to give out, having played three two-on-two rounds in a row; whereas Hinata and Bokuto had been given a significant break in between games to regain their strength. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It’s not exactly fair,” Yaku sighed, disappointed that it looked like the libero’s group would lose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But that may happen in an actual game setting,” Coach Hibarida noted, overhearing the Russian League player. “Iwaizumi-san has been taking notes that he’ll debrief us on shortly.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And sure enough, within a few minutes, the game was over, with Team Chaos emerging as the victors for Day One. Shoyo and Hinata jumped up enthusiastically, somehow still swollen with energy, as Atsumu and Aran triumphantly cheered from the sidelines. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was thankful it was the end of the day, as he wasn’t sure he could have practiced more, his body felt so filthy from sweat and grime. Motoya even looked worse for wear, his auburn hair plastered to the side of his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily, Iwaizumi was brief. “I’ve detailed observations on your playstyles today in the two-on-two’s. I’ve noted possible areas you can practice on this week and my observations on individualized physical training schedules, which I’ll run by Coach Hibarida tonight and then give back to you tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Iwaizumi-san sounds so professional,” Hinata leaned over and whispered to Kageyama, who frowned, not taking his eyes off the athletic trainer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>a professional, dumbass.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Hinata cried out, punching Kageyama on the arm, drawing everyone’s attention for a split second. Hinata grinned sheepishly and scuttled away from Kageyama. Iwaizumi just knowingly shook his head and turned the attention back to Coach Hibarida. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You all did well for our first day! We’re going to hit things hard tomorrow, so enjoy your evening, rest well, and we will see you bright and early for breakfast in the commons area.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> The coach clapped his hands and Sakusa could not retreat fast enough to the showers. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone hit the showers and afterwards a few volunteers Coach Hibarida recruited came by each of the rooms to announce that free rice and ramen was to be served in the commons area for anyone that didn’t want to dine out. While the “Chaos” room was too busy unpacking to eat at the moment, and the “Condor” room had all gone out to eat, the “Control” room decided to take advantage of the free meal and ate in the commons area, before returning to finish unpacking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where you headed, Kageyama?” Motoya was throwing his pillow to the top bunk, as he unpacked his suitcase, noticing the setter gathering up gear into his gym bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hinata wants to practice some spikes tonight,” Kageyama replied casually, “I think Bokuto was coming with him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And probably Miya-san,” Motoya added with a grin full of faux-sweetness. Sakusa, who had walked out of the bathroom, rolled his eyes at his cousin’s comment and sat down on the bottom bunk beside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t remind me,” Kageyama groaned, throwing the bag over his shoulder, “I’ll be back later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See ya,” Motoya waved him off, leaning up against the wall, “I’m surprised you didn’t want to join them, Ushijima-san.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve exerted ourselves enough today,” Ushijima commented absent-mindedly, thumbing through the latest copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Volleyball Monthly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “especially when we don’t know what Iwaizumi-san and Hibarida-san have planned for the rest of the week.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I agree,” Sakusa nodded, causing Motoya’s gaze to sharply turn towards his cousin, “I’m not surprised Hinata and Bokuto are meeting him. Hinata tends to stay late after practice constantly. Our coach has had to send him home from the gym on numerous occasions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima didn’t look up from the magazine, but nodded, “He’s always been far too tenacious in over-exerting himself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s putting it mildly,” Sakusa chuckled -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did Motoya hear it correctly? -- actually chuckled at the comment? -- </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the ace’s comment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa couldn’t tell his cousin in the moment, but he was enjoying having this conversation with Ushijima, even if it was somewhat second-hand. While Komori was there, Sakusa had a buffer, a “get-out plan” in case any discussion grew uncomfortable, and he felt he could be more at ease with the flow of their conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one sure what to say next, a calm silence settled in the air between the three of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think,” Motoya pulled himself away from the wall, his voice starting to trail off, “that I’m going to a juice from the vending machine downstairs. I’ll be right back,” he added quickly, turning his head to not see the suddenly horrified expression painting Sakusa’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Kiyoomi could protest, the dorm door shut, leaving the curly-haired wing spiker sitting on his bed, alone with Ushijima -- still buried in his Volleyball magazine -- opposite him on the other bunk bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTES:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Most of these chapter titles are just fictitious or generic diseases; some will be related to future chapter “happenings,” though. For now, it’s all good fun. **nervous laughter**</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hope you’re enjoying the story! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Next chapter: Uhm. Sakusa and Ushijima’s first moment alone in the dorms...Poor Sakusa, am I right? ;-)</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Despotellis in the Dorms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa gets his first one-on-one time with Ushijima. </p><p>And the first full training day gets off to a..."chaotic" start...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kiyoomi Sakusa wished there was a ticking clock in the room; at least then, he could focus his mind on the metronome of the hands instead of being consumed by the silence that had settled between himself and Ushijima. </p><p> </p><p>The ace was still thumbing through the<em> Volleyball Monthly </em> propped in his lap, seemingly unbothered by the quiet. Sakusa was not particularly religious, but he found himself praying his cousin would hurry up and get his juice downstairs so he could return to the room. </p><p> </p><p>“Your form was impressive today,” Ushijima’s deep voice broke the silence, causing Sakusa to flinch. The ace’s eyes were still on the magazine, “especially that last spike.” </p><p> </p><p>The curly-haired spiker’s eyes were wide, his mouth stretched thin. <em> What do I say to that? Why is he bringing it up again? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Ehh, thanks,” Sakusa finally managed, shifting in his seat to try and loosen himself up, he realized how stiff he was sitting. “You and Kageyama were as frustrating as ever,” he found the phrase left his lips before he could stop himself. <em> Idiot! You -- </em></p><p> </p><p>But Ushijima let out a short, deep chuckle, “I was thinking the same of you and Komori-san.” His eyes lifted and met Sakusa’s. “You deliberately sent that last spike to me. Why was that?”</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa said another prayer that his face wasn’t too red. He took a breath, realizing there was no point in not answering his question, “I thought Kageyama would bump it to you if I sent it to him, and you’d spike it over.” Ushijima stared at him, his eyes widening slightly. Sakusa tilted his head, confused, “What? Is that surprising?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, just,” the ace frowned slightly, and he turned his head from Sakusa -- <em> was he embarrassed? </em>-- as he continued, “I thought you aimed your spike at me because you knew I wouldn’t receive it.”</p><p> </p><p> Sakusa stared at him. <em> Was there? </em> No, there <em> was </em> a slight hint of color splashed across the ace’s cheeks. He wasn’t imagining it. Wakatoshi Ushijima thought Sakusa had singled him out at that moment because <em> he </em>was weak. </p><p> </p><p>“No,” Sakusa replied, probably louder than he should, because it drew Ushijima’s gaze back to him, “I was afraid of receiving your spike, if anything.” <em> You’re the furthest thing from weak, </em>he wanted to add, but the words caught in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>Kiyoomi swore the air had thickened around them. Ushijima’s hazel eyes scanned over Sakusa’s face, as if mulling over a response.</p><p> </p><p>The door suddenly opened, drawing both Sakusa and Ushijima’s attention; Komori smiled at the two of them, holding up his drink. “Can you believe they <em> only </em>had Hiyashi Ame downstairs?!” </p><p> </p><p>“There’s no Potari Sweat?” Ushijima questioned, his focus drawn away from his and Sakusa’s conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“No! If the others find out, there’ll be a riot,” Komori stopped, his eyes trained on his cousin’s face. Whatever Sakusa’s expression was, it had the libero’s attention, “You okay, Kiyoomi-kun?” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa frowned, “Of course I’m okay.” He suddenly rose and stalked towards the bathroom, “I’m going to take a shower before Kageyama gets back.” </p><p><br/>As he tilted his head into the shower, he could faintly hear Komori rambling to Ushijima about watching Hinata, Kageyama, and the others practicing in the gym near the vending machines. The spiker sighed, slicking his curly hair back. </p><p> </p><p>Despite him praying earlier for his cousin’s hasty return, Sakusa suddenly found himself agitated that his quiet conversation with Ushijima had been cut short. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sure enough, Kageyama returned right as Sakusa was exiting the bathroom. His hair a sweat-drenched mop, he sighed and told Komori and Ushijima that the “Chaos Room’s” reward for winning the day’s activities was that they got to choose the next day’s activities...and who played who during them.</p><p> </p><p>“Hinata will just want to challenge you the whole time,” Komori remarked from the top bunk, his face resting in his hand. </p><p> </p><p>“Maybe not,” Kageyama looked up in response, “He was going on tonight about wanting to go up against Hyakuzawa, so who knows.” The setter started gathering his sleepwear together, Kiyoomi shuffling past him towards the bunk under his cousin. </p><p> </p><p>“Feeling better, Kiyoomi-kun?” Komori eyed him from above. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa glared at him, “I was fine to begin with,” adding a stern <em> drop-it </em> glance towards his cousin, as if to end the conversation. Komori just raised an eyebrow, but Sakusa could see the corners of his mouth starting to curve slyly. </p><p> </p><p>About an hour later, once Kageyama had finished his shower and the four had grown weary of talking about what could possibly happen during practice tomorrow, the four all decided to retire for the evening. Sakusa left the bathroom light on and shut the door, in case someone had to get up in the middle of the night, and turned the remaining lights off in the room. He then placed his duffel bag and luggage neatly under his bed --<em> out of sight, out of mind </em> -- and settled under the covers on his back, staring up at the bunk above him. </p><p> </p><p>He had the distinct feeling, though, that someone was staring at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ushijima looking towards him in the darkness, his mouth a thin line, as if contemplating saying something. Sakusa wished at that moment that both his cousin and Kageyama were gone, so he could ask the ace to speak up, but in the next moment, the southpaw turned on his side, his back facing Sakusa. </p><p> </p><p>The light from under the bathroom door let him make out the curve of Ushijima’s shoulder blades against his faded Shiratorizawa sleep shirt.<em>The shirt must have been large on him when he was in high school, </em> Kiyoomi mused. Ushijima had bulked up since then, though; the fabric clinging to his back tightly. The curly haired spiker wondered how many times it had been washed, worn to practice, washed again...his mind trailed until he found he’d finally fallen asleep. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The first morning of training camp at the dorms was an utter mess and Sakusa <em> hated </em>it. </p><p> </p><p>When they’d arrived yesterday, there had been no time for “shenanigans.” Everyone had unpacked essentials, went to lunch, attended the first practice, debriefed, had dinner, and went back to their rooms in an orderly fashion to finish unpacking, shower, and sleep. It had been a clean, simple process.</p><p> </p><p>But now, with it being the first full morning of camp, everyone had down time and everyone’s morning regimens were on full display. The air was ripe with havoc.</p><p> </p><p>Ushijima showered first in the morning, so he missed most of the chaos. Komori had gone downstairs first-thing to get breakfast. Kageyama, as it turns out, was a late sleeper, and was still snoring quietly when Sakusa awoke and started to neatly make his bed. </p><p> </p><p>All seemed fine, until the door crashed open and barreling in was Shoyo Hinata and Atsumu Miya. Atsumu was already dressed in his gym wear, his hair tousled perfectly. Hinata, though, was still in his sleepwear, his hair ridiculously unkempt. </p><p> </p><p>“Omi-San! BAKAYAMA!” Hinata yelled, the door swinging open, with Atsumu chuckling behind him like a ten-year-old elementary student. Before Sakusa could even protest or question their intrusion, Hinata was hanging off the bunk bed, “WAKE UP!” </p><p> </p><p>“What. Are. You. <em> Doing </em>?!” Sakusa’s face was burning. </p><p> </p><p>Atsumu waved his hand dismissively as Kageyama, who had awoke in a furious rage, was currently gripping the wing spiker by a clump of orange hair. “Oh, Omi-Omi, we just came to make sure you all were uuuuup!” He smirked, giving Sakusa a once-over glance, clearly finding the spiker’s bed head amusing. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Get </em> . <em> Out </em>.” Sakusa spat, trying his best to guard his neatly made bed from the walking disaster that was Kageyama and Hinata fighting in the bunk next to him. “You are all supposed to be grown ass adults--”</p><p> </p><p>“Omi-San! You haven’t been on a team with Kageyama, though!” Hinata protested with a laugh, not noticing Sakusa seething, “If we don’t do this, he’ll sleep through practice!”</p><p> </p><p>“Somehow, idiot,” Kageyama shoving Hinata away, “I managed to survive on the Adlers' team without your wake up calls!” He was out of bed now, trying to usher Hinata and Atsumu towards the hallway. “Now, <em> move </em>!” </p><p> </p><p>Amidst Kageyama trying to shuffle the two black jackals out the door, Komori had arrived back, juice in one hand and porridge in the other, and was trying to make his way past them and into the dorm. </p><p> </p><p>What happened in the next ten seconds could only be described as a <em> nightmare </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Komori, seeing Hinata and Atsumu being shoved his way, tried to take a step backwards to exit the room until the two were past him. However, Bokuto, who had heard Hinata and Atsumu yelling, jumped into the doorway with a loud, “Hey, hey, HEY!” This caused Komori to jump forward with fright. To avoid colliding with Hinata and Atsumu, he twisted his body in the small space of the entrance to hug the wall, letting the two volleyball idiots slide past him and out the door. He moved past Kageyama and rounded the corner into the room, only to have Ushijima -- just exiting the bathroom, freshly showered -- nearly collide into him, having not seen him rounding the corner. </p><p><br/>Komori, to avoid running into Ushijima, jumped forward in true libero fashion, but he jumped too far, knocking into his cousin, and in the process, sending his porridge bowl and juice flying from his hand to smack against not only Sakusa, but splatter across his bed sheets as well. </p><p> </p><p>The bowl and cup crashed to the floor of the dorm with a loud <em> CLACK! </em>Luckily, both were plastic, so they didn’t break, only spinning on the floor before falling on their sides. </p><p> </p><p>The room went silent. </p><p> </p><p>Komoro stared at his cousin with his jaw dropped open. Ushijima and Kageyama both had deer-in-the-headlight stares. Atsumu slowly backed up, gripping Hinata and Bokuto by the collars of their shirts. “We...should probably go…”</p><p> </p><p>As the three backed into the hallway, Yaku walked by, freshly bathed with a strong scent of cologne wafting off him. Seeing the door wide open and everyone congregating, stepped in to view the situation. His glance traveled from Kageyama, Ushijima, Komori, and settled on Sakusa, who was silently gathering fumes. </p><p> </p><p>“Wow, you all really let loose in the mornings!” He chirped, Hoshiumi walking by about the same time. “Hey! Hoshiumi-san! We’ll have to let everyone know this room is ‘mission control’ for partying this weekend!” He laughed, walking out of the room to join his roommates for breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>Komori took a step towards Sakusa once Yaku was gone, his hands timidly held in front of him, as if approaching a wild animal. “Kiyoomi-Kun, don’t worry, I’ll help clean--” </p><p> </p><p>“Motoya,” Sakusa cut him off, his voice steely and his onyx eyes blazing, “Get me Aran. <em> Now </em>.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The “Control” room was the last group to show up for the morning debriefing. </p><p> </p><p>Komori apologized profusely for bringing breakfast to the dorm rooms in the first place, promising Sakusa he wouldn’t do it again that weekend, and Kageyama and Ushijima offered to clean up the floor and take the bedspread and sheets to the laundry room while Sakusa showered. While that was happening, Komori went and told Aran, who had been in the shower himself when all this happened, the events of the morning. The former vice captain gave Atsumu and the others a stern lecture shortly thereafter. <br/><br/></p><p>“But Arannnn-kun,” Atsumu protested, “Why am <em> I </em>getting all the blame?!”</p><p> </p><p>At the morning debrief, Hinata slid momentarily next to Sakusa, “I’m so sorry about this morning, Omi-San! We didn’t mean for it to get out of hand!” He offered, face guilty. Sakusa huffed with disgust, </p><p><br/>“Come in our dorm again before breakfast and I’ll let Kageyama rip all that orange hair from your scalp,” He leered, causing Hinata to flinch and retreat back to his roommates. </p><p> </p><p>Komori elbowed him, “He <em> did </em>say he was sorry...all of them did, actually. Even Bokuto-san, and he didn't really do anything--” </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care,” Sakusa glared back, “we’re on a National Olympic team and those idiots are acting like we’re at high school summer camp. It’s ridiculous.”</p><p> </p><p>Komori had to admit that their antics had been a bit juvenile. He shrugged, as Coach Hibarida, apparently having no clue what had happened that morning, told them to finish gathering their things and to meet in the gym in the next five minutes to start practice. </p><p> </p><p>As everyone started to scatter and grab their gear, Ushijima’s deep voice drew the spiker’s gaze to him, “Your bedspread and sheets should be dry by the time practice is over.” </p><p> </p><p>The curly-haired man sighed, “Thank you. I’ll go get them when we’re done for the day.”</p><p> </p><p>Ushijima’s eyes fell towards Hinata and Atsumu, who were currently arguing with Kageyama and Hoshiumi about something, “You’ll get them back, I’m sure.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa, who had been adjusting the strap on his duffel bag, suddenly straightened, his eyes zeroing in on the southpaw, “What did you say?”</p><p> </p><p>“I meant during practice, today,” Ushijima’s face broke into the smallest of smiles, “You should get them back for this morning. I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa stared at the ace, apprehension dawning as his eyes widened slowly. “Oh.” He felt his face growing hot, so he quickly finished adjusting the strap and started to walk away, “Yeah, I’m sure I will.”</p><p> </p><p>As they headed towards the gymnasium for the day’s practice, Sakusa couldn’t help a small smile creep to his face. Maybe this morning hadn’t been a <em>complete</em> nightmare. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTES:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>I’m really looking forward to the next chapter, with what “TEAM CHAOS” has in mind for a practice challenge! </p><p> </p><p>Also, I hope you liked this chapter! Even though they’re in their twenties, I can just imagine the adrenaline and chaotic energy with this group...how could things <em>not</em> get out of hand?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Bloodfire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“The twist,” Hinata curved his body, with his arms forming a ‘C’, connecting with Bokuto’s to look like the fusion dance from Dragonball Z, “The two players on your team can’t be who you played with yesterday!”</p><p>Everyone laughed at the reference, looking at each other excitedly -- that is, except for one black haired wing spiker, whose face was shadowed in sudden apprehension.</p><p>His partner had to be Wakatoshi Ushijima.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Alright,” Coach Hibarida called everyone’s attention at the center of the gym, “The team of Hinata, Miya, Bokuto, and Aran won yesterday’s practice challenge,” he paused only at Bokuto and Miya’s triumphant </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘whoop</span>
  </em>
  <span>!’ before continuing, “so their reward is getting to select today’s challenge for the group! Hinata-san,” he motioned towards Shoyo, who approached the front of the group with Bokuto alongside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve decided our challenge is going to be a two-on-two ‘spike and receive’ challenge!” Hinata looked towards Bokuto, who added, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We will split into two-man teams. On one side of the net, will be a server, and the other side of the net will be a receiver that has to try and bump the ball back over the net back to the server.” Bokuto grinned, “The server from the opposing team will be sending the ball to your team’s receiver. The first to score fifteen points wins. And--” He looked towards Hinata, who jumped beside the ace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>twist</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Hinata curved his body, with his arms forming a ‘C’, connecting with Bokuto’s to look like the fusion dance from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dragonball Z,</span>
  </em>
  <span> “You can’t play with yesterday’s teammates!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone laughed at the reference, looking at each other excitedly -- that is, except for one black haired wing spiker, whose face was shadowed in sudden apprehension.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His partner had to be Wakatoshi Ushijima. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And then, they were teammates!” Komori teased in a low voice, passing behind Sakusa and narrowly missing the swing of the spiker’s arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa hissed at his cousin, but the libero was already jovially bounding towards Kageyama. The spiker regained his composure quickly, noticing Ushijima was approaching him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you want to serve or receive?” Ushijima asked, and Sakusa was thankful his cousin was out of earshot, lest he make some vulgar joke at his expense. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can serve,” The curly haired man offered, to which the ace nodded in agreement.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teams were set -- Iwaizumi had wheeled in a dry erase board, where he had mapped out the teams for the day’s activity: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Round One: Bokuto and Aran vs. Ushijima and Sakusa</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Round Two: Kageyama and Komori vs. Hyakuzawa and Hoshiumi</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Round Three: Yaku and Hakuba vs. Miya and Hinata</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bokuto and Aran were surprisingly similar players, both being extremely adequate aces, with hard spikes and excellent blocking ability. But serving and receiving were not their forte. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Sakusa received Bokuto’s serve and bumped it back to Ushijima, Aran shook his head, “Why did we agree to this challenge again?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arannnnn</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bokuto responded in a faux-whine, contrasting his hyper-energetic grin, “Tsum-Tsum and Hinata said it would be the best challenge!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>, sure,” Aran grumbled in response, jumping to hit his serve straight to Ushijima, who, despite not being the best at serving, could receive the ball adequately enough, bouncing it back to Sakusa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tag team of Ushijima and Sakusa proved to be the better at receiving the opponents’ serves, and they won the first round. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now we just have to hope Kageyama and Komori win their challenge,” Ushijima noted, wiping his brow with a towel as Sakusa took a drink from his water bottle. Sakusa nodded,</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“That would give us more odds to win the challenge, wouldn’t it?” He clicked his water bottle shut, eying the next match about to begin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This match was intriguing, in that Kageyama and Hoshiumi were both “all around” players, with Hoshiumi’s dexterity and receiving capabilities above Kageyama’s, but the dark haired player’s serves and setting techniques evening the playing field. Both were capable at receiving and putting the ball across the net, so the tie-breaker would come down to Hyakuzawa versus Komori.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While there was no way Komori would ever compete with the two-meter high man in terms of blocking -- that </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>today’s challenge. Komori was exceptional at receiving and despite not serving in an actual game, he’d practiced enough with Sakusa over the years to be adequate. Much to Hoshiumi’s dismay, Kageyama and Komori reached the desired goal first to win the round. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For someone who never gets to in a game, you serve pretty good,” Kageyama noted as they walked off the court. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori raised an eyebrow in surprise, “Oh, you think?” His face broke into a grin, “Thanks! Years of practicing with this guy will do that to you!” He walked by Sakusa and shook his shoulder, much to the curly-haired man’s chagrin, as he flinched away from his cousin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nicely done,” Ushijima nodded to Kageyama, who shrugged, looking past the ace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Naturally,” Kageyama’s eyes narrowed onto Atsumu and Hinata, who were both cheering at Team Control’s victory, “It’ll come down to this next round.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hoshiumi, meanwhile, was bobbing all around Hyakuzawa like a seagull, his head weaving around the giant middle blocker, piping off at Yaku, “This isn’t fair! Our room is the only one without a setter and with middle blockers! They’re picking these challenges to put us at a disadvantage!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku sighed, “It’s fine, Hoshiumi-san. Let’s go,” He motioned to Hakuba, who nodded, his eyes looking slightly nervous toward the living embodiment of the sun beaming at them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right beside the ball of sunshine was Atsumu, smugly twirling a volleyball  in his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“They picked this challenge today just so they could team up,” Gao frowned with realization. Yaku exhaled, nodding slowly beside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hakuba’s words were quite true, as Shoyo and Atsumu made the perfect team for this type of challenge; with Atsumu able to serve vicious aces against the opposite player, and Shoyo able to receive both Yaku and Gao’s serves with ease. It wasn’t a long match, especially given that Yaku and Gao weren’t as accustomed to serving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This sucks!” Hoshiumi whined. Gao sulked beside him silently with his arms crossed and Hyakuzawa sighed, taking a long drink from his water bottle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It does. But,” Yaku tilted his head back to glance at the white-haired spiker over his shoulder with a smirk, “Even if we don’t win today’s challenge, we will win eventually -- people like us know the rewards of persistence.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This caused Hoshiumi to immediately quiet, as the two middle blockers stared with wide eyes. A moment passed and the white-haired spiker immediately smirked back, knowing the libero was quite correct. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It was only a matter of time and patience</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Iwaizumi blew his whistle and drew everyone’s attention to the white board, “Since Team Chaos has only one group in the final three, they’ll automatically advance to the last round for today. Team Control will face off against one another to see who will take on Hinata and Miya.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa could really care less which of them faced Hinata and Miya -- he’d played with both of them, so he was less than thrilled that they’d have to deal with their antics, regardless. Komori also seemed more thrilled at just playing another round than who won. “We shouldn’t overwork ourselves,” Komori noted, “Or we’ll end up in the same boat as yesterday, since those two are getting a break.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“True,” Sakusa agreed, but his mind was filled with doubt as he glanced towards him and Komori’s teammates.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Between Kageyama and Ushijima, an instant fire blazing in their eyes at the chance to take on Shoyo Hinata. Sakusa and Komori had heard about the rivalry between the two high schools years ago, and it was finally on full display here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to take down that runt,” Kageyama said in a low voice, more to himself than anything, but Komori nodded anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa,” The curly-haired man turned and was frozen by Ushijima’s stare. His eyes were gleaming darkly and it almost seemed like a glow was cascading around him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Kiyoomi managed. The ace’s eyes were fire, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are going to advance and play Shoyo Hinata and the Miya brother.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shiver ran down Sakusa’s spine. The words were said with such clarity, and such finality, and that the dark-haired spiker could only toss his head to the side, to try and save face, “If you say so,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wakatoshi-Kun</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he wanted to add, but hesitated. He’d thrown that term around to others in conversation, but saying it in front of Ushijima now seemed too...</span>
  <em>
    <span>intimate</span>
  </em>
  <span>? He shook his head and the blush from his cheeks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, now wasn’t the time for that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had a match to win.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In high school, true, Ushijima had been the third strongest ace and Sakusa had taken the top spot in the nation. They were spikers, whose biggest strength was hitting the ball set up by their setters and scoring points through those means.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>today’s challenge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kageyama had them outmatched at serving, and Komori was not about to let his status as one of the nation’s top liberos go unnoticed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go, Komori-san!” Yaku screamed from the bleachers. “Kick their teeth in!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” Hakuba gave the shorter man a sideways stare. “Their teeth?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wow</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Hyakuzawa breathed, sitting next to Hoshiumi, “Your teammates are pretty incredible out there.” Ushijima received one of Kageyama’s serves and popped it back over to Sakusa.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The white-haired spiker smirked, arms crossed at his chest. “Duh,” He boasted, chest puffed out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu Miya and Hinata both stared down the match, gulping from their water bottles as they eyed the match. “Think it’ll be Tobio-kun that faces us next?” Miya mused, after a particularly long drink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Hinata’s eyes didn’t even leave the court, as he watched Kageyama serve the ball and it ricochet off Ushijima’s arm, “there’s no doubt.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why ya say that?” Atsumu was now flanking the orange-haired man’s side, looking down at him, curiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because,” Hinata smiled wide, “Kageyama wanted to play me yesterday and got denied by Omi-san and Komori-san. There’s no way he’s letting that happen two days in a row.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had no doubt Ushijima wanted this. He wanted the chance to take on Shoyo Hinata again on the court, and Sakusa would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in receiving some of Atsumu’s serves, just to tick him off and show he was inferior to the ace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it just wasn’t working. Kageyama was internally smoldering, and his desire to take on his former teammate had lit a fuse beneath him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Komori? Komori was just doing as he had done with Sakusa the day before. To him, receiving a ball was as natural as breathing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The score was close, but really, there had been no contest. Kageyama and Komori emerged victorious by the end of the set. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nicely done!” Yaku slapped Komori on the back, “Team Libero for the win, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve been lucky these challenges so far have included a lot of receiving,” Komori nodded with a sheepish grin, “If your team wins, I dread thinking about the challenge you all will give us!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“That’s right,” Hoshiumi came up from behind Komori and ribbed him, “We have the best blockers on our team -- you all will be </span>
  <em>
    <span>doomed </span>
  </em>
  <span>when that happens this week.” He smirked and strode off to meet at the side of the gym where Iwaizumi had clapped his hands for them all to gather. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa and Ushijima barely had time to wipe the sweat from their faces -- Sakusa wishing he’d had time to go to the bathroom first -- before the re-group. Sakusa sighed, he could tell by the tight-lipped expression on his partner’s face that he was disappointed at their loss. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was there more we could have done, though? </span>
  </em>
  <span>His thoughts were cut short by Iwaizumi’s call to attention, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, good rounds so far, everyone!” Iwaizumi stood, one hand on his waist, the other clutching his clipboard. “To be fair to Team Control, we will break for lunch and let everyone eat and relax before going into the final round of today’s challenge. Afterwards, we’ll discuss the rest of today’s practice. Does that sound good?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone nodded and responded in agreement. Coach Hibarida walked into the gym to inform them that lunch was served in the commons area and they would meet back up in 40 minutes. The group scattered; some heading straight for the food, some to the restroom; some for the vending machines. Sakusa quickly retreated to the bathroom, making it in and out before everyone else. The rest of Team Control was not far behind, and the four entered the commons area together to get lunch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re pretty excited about facing Miya-san and Hinata-san, eh?” Komori tapped Kageyama on the shoulder playfully as they moved through the line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The setter blinked, seemingly not used to Komori’s antics, “Of course -- I’ve wanted to grind that runt into the sand since we arrived here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do know he’s going to be your teammate on the court during the Olympics, right?” Komori tilted his head at Kageyama casually. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” the setter huffed, grabbing a bowl of rice and placing it onto his tray. “Practices will be the only time I’ll get to face him not on the same team.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re something else,” Komori laughed, following behind him. “Don’t worry -- Hinata </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>good at receiving,” he flashed his eyes rather mischievously, “But I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, the setter just stared at Komori, seemingly unsure what to say. Then, his face broke into a dark grin, realizing the libero was just as on board with defeating the two Jackals as he was, “Good.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kageyama turned and headed towards the table, as Sakusa -- who had been behind Komori for the conversation -- leaned closer to his cousin’s ear,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I didn’t know any better,” The curly-haired spiker whispered with a sneer, “I would have called that </span>
  <em>
    <span>flirting, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Motoya.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The libero glanced back, seeming nonchalant, “Oh, really?” He replied, flippant. Motoya was normally calm and nonstop friendly, but Sakusa knew his cousin, and how he would get distant and cold if threatened. His eyes glanced casually towards his cousin and then behind him, “I wouldn’t know. Oh, but Ushijima’s motioning for you, Kiyoomi-kun.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa spun around fast, only to see Ushijima reaching for a rice bowl -- clearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>motioning for the dark-haired spiker. The ace, startled by how fast Sakusa had rounded on him, flinched with surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The curly-haired spiker heard Komori let out a small chuckle as he moved to catch up with Kageyama. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dammit, Motoya</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sakusa vowed internally to pay his cousin back for tricking him in the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you forget to grab something from the table?” Ushijima asked politely, his eyes glancing down at Sakusa’s tray, “You didn’t get any of the onigiri they put out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Sakusa sighed, walking towards what had become the designated ‘Team Control’ table, Ushijima walking beside him, “ever since Atsumu started to bring around some of the onigiri he and his brother made to practice, I just haven’t had the appetite for it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought they served some of the better onigiri in our area, though?” The ace’s voice was laced with confusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That may be the case,” Sakusa grimaced, “But eating rice balls that Atsumu Miya and his brother have pawed over? No, thank you,” He scoffed, as the two joined Kageyama and Komori. Ushijima just gave a short, deep hum as a reply, to which Sakusa was relieved he didn’t try to push the matter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The group ate mostly in silence, entertainment for the hour provided by Hoshiumi, who had gotten into an argument with Miya actually about onigiri and whether the ones served for lunch were better than his brother’s. Hakuba had joined Hoshiumi’s side as Aran defended Miya’s loud boast that “damn seagulls don’t know good onigiri from Negano trash,” to which Hoshiumi nearly jumped across the tables to tackle Atsumu. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How many more months are we supposed to train together before the Olympics?” Komori feigned the question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seven or Eight, I think,” Kageyama replied, not realizing Komori’s question was rhetorical.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God help us,” Sakusa spat, noticing out of the corner of his eye the small smile that pierced Ushijima’s face. He wished he could hide his more-than-likely flustered face behind his mask, so he could face Ushijima properly without risking the scrutiny of his cousin. <em>Seven or eight months of this to go?</em> Sakusa frowned, taking a bite of soba noodles. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the final match of the day’s challenge: Shoyo Hinata and Atsumu Miya vs. Tobio Kageyama and Motoya Komori. Two setters, each with their own shorter teammates; Shoyo a middle blocker turned spiker, and Motoya a thoroughbred libero.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m impressed we’ll have nearly all positions on the court represented in this final bout,” Coach Hibarida smiled next to Iwaizumi, who nodded in reply. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori was to receive Miya’s serves, as Shoyo had won the coin toss and got to pick who he would be paired against. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the libero smiled knowingly, watching Shoyo lick his lips as Kageyama was about to serve.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Not that it matters, though</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Komori  gave a small smile, and then realized Miya was staring at him from across the net with a narrowed gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unbeknownst to Komori, Atsumu’s mind was flashing back to moments before their match started: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sooo, Omi-Omi...your cousin,” Miya had slid beside Sakusa as they walked into the gym, “Is he...like you?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The dark-haired spiker gave the blonde an incredulous stare, “What are you even asking?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, I mean, with yer weird wrists and all,” he motioned towards Sakusa’s hands with his eyes, “Does Mori-kun have any secret weapons like that?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sakusa rolled his eyes, “No, he doesn’t.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Righhht,” Miya eyed the libero over Sakusa’s shoulder, “But...he’s your cousin, so that means there’s something off about him, right?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sakusa made every effort to move away from the setter, “Just because we’re related doesn’t mean we share a brain cell like you and your brother. Now, get away from me.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu readied his serve, glancing across the net to see Komori lower his body, unafraid and seemingly anticipating whatever the setter was going to toss his way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re wrong Omi-Omi,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Atsumu clicked his tongue, as his serve zipping wildly, only to be met by Komori’s arms thrusting the ball upwards and over the net towards Kageyama. It had been an amazing serve, but Komori had met it with his arms like it was nothing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your cousin is just as much a monster as you are. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Nice receive!” Iwaizumi called out, as Coach Hibarida clapped his hands jovially. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll get the next one, Tsum-tsum!” Bokuto cheered in rebuttal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Kageyama and Hinata were having the time of their lives on the court, the setter’s serves getting faster and more dynamic, with Shoyo chasing each one like a dog playing fetch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is just like our last day of third year,” the orange-haired spiker called out, as the ball he received bounced back towards Miya. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Except you don’t suck as much as you did then,” Kageyama retorted, twirling the volleyball as he readied his next serve. Shoyo could only puff his cheeks in response, as the setter was already sending another ball his way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The match was surprisingly fast-paced, as both Shoyo and Komori were good at receiving. Whereas Kageyama wasn't a tri-wielding server like Atsumu was, Shoyo wasn’t the libero that Komori was, despite how good at receiving he’d become. The two teams were at fourteen points each, as both Kageyama and Atsumu went to serve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bring it, Kageyama!” Hinata cried out, smiling brightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori was silent, his hands stretched out in front of him, eyes focused on Atsumu. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kageyama tossed the ball, it rising to the perfect height and falling in place just perfectly for him to jump and strike.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu decided to do a fake-out and go for a jump floater, transitioning to a jumping spike at the last minute. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two balls sped past the net towards their receivers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ball curved at the last moment, striking the outside of Hinata’s arm and ricocheting past him towards the bleachers, where Aran caught it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other ball spiraled past the net and straight into Komori’s unyielding arms, smacking them hard and flying back over the net towards Kageyama, who caught it with an uncharacteristically smug look of satisfaction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Team Control makes it to fifteen first! They win today’s challenge!” Iwaizumi bellowed, blowing his whistle as the bleachers erupted into cheers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nicely done,” Ushijima congratulated the pair, both toweling off their drenched faces. </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Komori smiled, turning to Kageyama, “Satisfied?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“For now,” Kageyama gave a genuine, small smile, “yeah.” He walked past Komori, who seemed happy at the setter’s answer. Sakusa narrowed his eyes towards his cousin, but didn’t have time to tease him, as Coach Hibarida had already called everyone towards the white board, which Iwaizumi was busy erasing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent challenge, today!” The coach beamed, “Some of you are already improving based on the suggestions Trainer Iwaizumi-san and I gave you, and you’re definitely demonstrating a strong work ethic. For the rest of today’s practices, we are going to do receive drills -- I will have the liberos and the setters serving, while the rest of you practice. We’ll do that until five, and then you will be free to eat here or go out for the evening. Iwaizumi-san will debrief with Team Control later on their reward for winning today’s challenge.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi was already writing on the board, “Here are your partners for this afternoon -- we want to see you all receive a hundred serves before the end of today’s practice.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kageyama and Hakuba</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Komori and Ushijima</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaku and Aran</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miya and Kyazukawa</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata and Bokuto</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa and Hoshiumi</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was slight murmuring across the team, but Ushijima merely shrugged beside Sakusa, “We did one hundred serves at nearly every practice in high school. Receiving them shouldn’t be too difficult.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“At least it’s a solid hundred,” Sakusa added, “Our coach one time  had us receive seventy-three serves and it nearly drove me insane.” His brow scrunched, “Who picks an arbitrary number like seventy-three?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’’s lips turned up into a small smile, “That would be aggravating.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa exhaled as he watched Ushijima walk towards Komori, who beamed and said something in a sing-song fashion to the ace, who nodded and moved to the other side of the net. The libero glanced back at Sakusa and gave a giant, over-the-top wink, while flashing a ‘thumbs up’ sign. Kiyoomi could kill him right now. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But there was no time for that, as Hoshiumi came bounding up, demanding to get the serve and receives over with; “It’s Yaku’s turn to take us out tonight and he’s been raving about this restaurant that serves great Shinsu Soba, so let’s hurry this up.” He motioned for Sakusa to serve him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The curly-haired spiker gave a sharp </span>
  <em>
    <span>tch</span>
  </em>
  <span>, throwing the ball forward for his serve. If anything, he wanted this sped up just as much as the white-haired spiker.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The next few hours flew by, though one hundred serves and receives had taken their toll. Several of the teammates were panting, slightly bent from exhaustion. Sure enough, Hoshiumi finished his serves right as Yaku and Hakuba walked past him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hurry up, Hoshiumi-san!” Yaku called out; "we’re going to shower while Hyakuzawa’s finishing up and then heading out for dinner!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa watched as Hoshiumi flew past, saying only a quick “See ya, Sakusa-san!” before exiting the gym to presumably get ready for that evening. Sakusa shook his head as he started packing up his things. If he was lucky, he could make it upstairs before everyone else, get his bath, and --</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The curly-haired spiker’s thoughts were broken by the deep voice of the hazel-eyed ace that had just walked up to him. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh?” Sakusa turned to see Ushijima standing before him, a water bottle in one hand and volleyball pressed against his hip with the other. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I finished my receives with Komori-san,” Ushijima frowned, “But I wanted to ask if you wanted to stick around and hit a few more with me before showering.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt the air leave the room. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did Wakatoshi-kun just say he wanted to stay behind and practice more...with just him? Wait --</span>
  </em>
  <span> “What about Kageyama and Komori?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Kageyama has gone to talk with Iwaizumi about his reward for winning the challenge,” Ushijima replied dryly, “And your cousin Komori-san went to take a shower first. He said you had mentioned practicing further this morning and that I should ask you about it.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha--I--,” Sakusa stammered, trying to compose himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You are dead to me, Komori. Absolutely dead to me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I--well,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Compose yourself! </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Were you just wanting me to serve to you?” He hated how disinterested he sounded, when his heart was hammering against his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If you wouldn’t mind,” Ushijima nodded, “I could stand for a few more serve and receives tonight -- it’s one of the areas Iwaizumi noted for my overall  improvement.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
“I thought you said you didn’t want to overdo it this week?” Sakusa found himself rebutting before he could stop. <em>Dammit, what are you even saying? </em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was before I saw the nature of today’s challenge.” Ushijima raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly at Sakusa, “Did you think today’s practice was too difficult? We don’t have to if you don’t want--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“No,” Sakusa stepped forward, staring down Ushijima. “It’s fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He would confront his cousin later.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He would probably strangle him for leaving him in this position.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But practice wasn’t technically over...and he never quit something until it was finished.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the sweat dripping down his chin, despite his heart hammering in his chest, Sakusa managed to sound serious as he asked his teammate,</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“How many were you thinking?” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTES:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sorry, this took longer than I would have liked to get out to you all!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ohhhh, Sakusa might be in for more than he anticipated this next chapter...and Komori, oh, Komori is so much fun to write, and needs more loving! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Next Chapter: Late Night Practice in the Gym...and “setting up” things! </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Syphon Filter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa did NOT sign up for this torment.<br/>Only...7-8 months left?</p><p>How does his team expect him to make it to the Olympics at this rate?</p><p>Also known as, “This Chapter, we start the torture of Sakusa.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They agreed to do serve/receive drills for another hour and a half -- the hazel-eyed ace was dead-set on receiving twenty of Sakusa’s serves in a row, which proved more challenging than anticipated, given the curly-haired wing spiker wasn’t planning on holding back or going easy on him. </p><p> </p><p>Hyakuzawa had finished with his partner and left the gym, leaving the pair alone with only the sounds of the ball smacking the side of Sakusa’s hand, followed by it rebounding off Ushijima’s arms. </p><p> </p><p>Neither of them were especially talkative during practice, and being alone was no different. Occasionally, Ushijima eyed Sakusa with a narrowed glance, his lips pursing as if he was about to say something. But the curly-haired spiker didn’t give him the option, immediately serving the ball back in an attempt to break his count. Honestly, Sakusa didn’t mind these drills, and in the hushed echoes of the gym, it was almost like a form of meditation. The air was tranquil; Sakusa felt…surprisingly calm. </p><p> </p><p>“Better,” Sakusa muttered aloud, as he caught the ball back from the ace. </p><p> </p><p>“Twenty is still far from impressive,” Ushijima wiped the sweat from his brow with a white hand towel, “I still  need more work to compete with you and Komori-san.”</p><p> </p><p>“I doubt either of us will compete with Motoya anytime soon,” Sakusa sighed, a small smile escaping his lips, “He’s practiced receiving my tosses since we were in elementary school.” His voice was laced with what? Pride? <em> Yes, </em> Sakusa thought, realizing how much he liked hearing praise of him and his cousin’s skills.</p><p> </p><p>Ushijima’s eyes widened, “That explains a lot,” He mused quietly, pausing before adding, “You two are related, aren’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa bit his lip, his eyes wavering over Ushijima’s face, “Cousins, yes.” It wasn’t lost to the dark-eyed spiker how beads of sweat dripped from the ace’s jaw down his neck. Sakusa averted his eyes before Ushijima could notice. </p><p> </p><p>“Interesting,” the ace nodded and gave Sakusa a small smile, “Perhaps I should start practicing with Komori and you more, then, so I can become just as proficient.” There was a light edge to his voice <em> -- was it -- was he trying to be funny? </em>Before he could ask, Ushijima added, “That was a joke, of course.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa stared, his lungs feeling like a tire with hole punctured through, “Oh. Right, of course it was.” He threw his head to the side, frowning; trying to be nonchalant. </p><p> </p><p>“Most people have a hard time telling when I am not being serious,” Ushijima tilted his head to the side, curious. “Even Tendo often has trouble, sometimes.” </p><p> </p><p>Of course, Sakusa remembered the wild, red-headed middle blocker of Shiratorizawa well, from all their matches in high school. “Hmm, hard to believe that,” Sakusa mused before being able to stop himself. He quickly snapped his mouth shut, eyes darting towards Ushijima. <em> Why did you say that?  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Why is it hard to believe?” Ushijima was gathering his things into his duffel bag, with Sakusa following suit. The two were only feet apart at the bench where they’d laid their bags. </p><p> </p><p><em> Idiot </em>, Sakusa reprimanded himself, “You and Tendo-san seemed very close in high school,” He replied, not looking at the ace, but trying to focus instead on packing up his things.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Ushijima nodded, “Tendo and I are very good friends--” </p><p> </p><p><em> The best, I’m sure, </em> Sakusa frowned, hating the nag of jealousy paining him. <em> Though I don’t see how you could l-- </em></p><p> </p><p>“--though I haven’t been in contact with him in about a year,” Ushijima added, “I should probably contact him before the Olympics to check in on him.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa blinked, <em> A year? </em>“It’s been a year since you’ve talked to him?”</p><p> </p><p>Ushijima shrugged, “Around that. He’s busy with his new business in Paris, so it’s hard to get the time zones correct to call him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I figured you saw him all the time,” Sakusa wasn’t sure why he said it, but the words escaped his mouth before he could stop them.</p><p> </p><p>Ushijima tilted his head slightly, eying Sakusa with an apprehensive gaze, “Why would you think that?” There was an edge to the ace’s voice; a questioning -- <em> no, a dare </em> -- for Sakusa to say what he meant in that last comment. </p><p> </p><p>The curly-haired spiker felt his face flare, and he knew his pale skin was probably splotched with crimson by now. But there was no point in ignoring his question. Not now, anyway. Sakusa inhaled, hoping the extra oxygen would restore his complexion, “I thought you were involved with Tendo-san.” He stated as matter-of-factually as possible. </p><p> </p><p>There was a pause, a beat between them, before Ushijima nodded, “Ah. I see.” He zipped up his duffel, “No, Tendo and I are what you would call ‘best friends.’ But that is all. He’s not,” and the ace’s eyes met Sakusa’s, “my type.” </p><p> </p><p><em> That phrasing -- that glance --that tenor -- perfecto! </em> Those words ushered into Sakusa’s mind in the voice of Atsumu Miya, and in that moment, Sakusa would have paid nearly anything to have the stupid setter there to distract Ushijima or diffuse the situation. But as it was, there he stood, all 6’4” of him, eye-to-eye with Shiratorizawa’s former ace, who may or may not have subtly-- <em> was it subtle? </em> --  implied that Kiyoomi Sakusa was his “type.” </p><p>Sakusa quickly closed his own duffel back, eying the mess of volleyballs still littering the gym floor. “Would you please pick up the balls for me? I’ll go on upstairs so I can start my bath.” </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t dare look back at Ushijima, who had started to reply, “That’s fine. I did ask you to practice later than normal. I’ll pick them up--” but the rest of his words were cut off by the closing gym doors; Sakusa already headed back to the dorm. </p><hr/><p> </p><p><em> Bath, bath, bath, </em> his mind repeated the word for an endless cycle, <em> just get Komori to bring you some dinner from the common area, get a bath, eat, and go to sleep. </em> Sakusa knew that Ushijima would be too polite to prod into the spiker’s personal space once he was securely under the covers with his back turned to the world. He needed to rest off that moment -- that revelation -- <em> No </em> , Sakusa frowned, there was no revelation. <em> He did not say you were his type! He was just implying Tendo wasn’t--  </em></p><p> </p><p>Sakusa rounded the corner of their dorms -- it was still early enough that everyone seemed to be outside either eating or exploring the town. <em> Just as well </em> , the curly-haired man mused, <em> No one will bother me, now --  </em></p><p> </p><p>He went to unlock the door to his dorm when suddenly the door opened on its own. </p><p> </p><p>“And then Rintaro went to block it, and--” Komori appeared at the dorm door, and nearly ran into his cousin, had he not taken a quick three steps back in surprise. “--Oh! Kiyoomi-kun!” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa blinked. Standing in the doorway was his cousin, dressed in casual blue slacks and a grey cardigan over a navy and white striped shirt. Behind him was Kageyama, in his normal black hoodie and sweatpants.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey! Where’s Ushijima?” Komori peaked around the doorway, his head bobbing as if trying to locate him. “I didn’t think you’d be done this soon.” </p><p> </p><p>“Wakatoshi-kun is putting the gym equipment away,” Sakusa frowned, his eyes narrowing at his cousin’s last part of the sentence, “It’s been a long day, and we were done...<em> practicing </em>.” He wanted to give his cousin every indication that he knew Motoya had set him up. It clearly worked, because he saw his cousin blush. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s understandable,” Komori’s eyes were knowing, but his voice gave no indication of giving into his cousin’s taunt, “Kageyama and I were just on our way to find you two.” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em> sure </em>you were,” Sakusa spat sarcastically. It did not look like that at all. </p><p> </p><p>“We didn’t know if you wanted to go out with us for dinner,” Kageyama added dryly, leaning into frame from behind Komori.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me?” Sakusa sneered, eyes narrowed.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s a place near us that serves <em> great </em>Yakitori,” Komori nodded at Kageyama, “We were going to meet up with Bokuto, Aran, Miya, and Hinata-san if you and Ushijima wanted to join.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yakitori does sound good.” Sakusa flinched, as Ushijima had entered the hallway, his gym bag strung over his shoulder. Sakusa blinked, <em> how fast did he gather those balls up?! </em> “The commons area has already closed for the night, so we can’t get any food down there.” </p><p> </p><p>The dark-haired man helplessly glanced from Ushijima back to his cousin. His plan for the evening was starting to unravel. “But we,” He turned his gaze from Ushijima back to Komori, “Ushijima and I would still need to shower.” </p><p> </p><p>“We figured that,” Komori grinned, “So Kageyama and I are going to go on ahead and save some seats with the others. We’ll put in an order for you all so it’ll be ready by the time you get there!” The libero gripped Sakusa’s bicep with just a smidgen of tension, “I know you hate waiting on your food at restaurants.” There was a smile on Komori’s face, but something under the surface, as if he was holding a secret from Sakusa.</p><p> </p><p><em> What was Motoya trying to tell him? </em>Sakusa wondered, his eyes fixated on his cousin’s grip. After a second, the libero released his hold on the spiker’s arm and waved at Ushijima. “We’ll catch you all down there!” </p><p> </p><p>And like that, the two off down the hallway, resuming some conversation about Komori’s teammates on his V. League team blocking a shot to win them their last game. </p><p> </p><p>Ushijima’s voice broke through the silence surrounding him and Sakusa, “Do you still want to shower first?” </p><p> </p><p>Obviously -- that had been his original plan -- Sakusa headed to the bathroom, disgruntled he was having to choose showering over bathing for the sake of time. As the water pelted his back, he pondered his cousin’s expression. <em> Why was Motoya in such a rush to leave me and Waka-- </em></p><p> </p><p>Then it hit him. Hit him like a freight train, barrelling through the dormitory. </p><p> </p><p>Komori and Kageyama had left them early...forcing Sakusa to walk to the restaurant with Ushijima. Alone. Again.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa swore aloud, to which he heard Ushijima call out from the other side of the bathroom, “Are you alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes!” The dark-haired spiker yelled back, cursing silently to himself as he dropped the soap in the shower and nearly smacked his head on the side of the wall picking it up. <em> Motoya has always been a meddler, but this is getting ridiculous!  </em></p><p> </p><p>A few minutes later, Sakusa calmly exited the bathroom to let Ushijima go next. As soon as the bathroom door shut behind the ace, Sakusa started to frantically pace around the room, grabbing the towel slung over his shoulders and frantically rubbing his head with it to help dry his mop of dark, curly hair. He threw on some casual slacks, white shirt, and his MSBY hoodie. The room around him was quiet, save for the soft echo of the shower, but Sakusa’s mind was racing like a freight train.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Just be calm. Be calm. You’ve walked with how many other volleyball players alone to a restaurant? It’s just Wakatoshi-kun; you’ll be fine. You’re a professional, for god’s sake! So just quit --  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Ready to go?” The spiker was stopped by the deep voice of the ace behind him. By the time Sakusa had talked himself into a sense of security, Ushijima had changed clothes and dried his hair as well. </p><p> </p><p>“Just waiting on you,” Sakusa managed to sound nonchalant as he brushed at his bangs with his hand and donned his mask, thankful he could wear it to hide his face.</p><p> </p><p>The air had grown chilly around them as they walked beside each other down the street. Ushijima had his hands buried in the pockets of a leather bomber jacket as he walked beside Sakusa, whose arms were equally buried inside his own black coat. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa glanced over, taking into full account how the material of the jacket arms were stretched tightly over his biceps. A part of him wondered how the ace even fit his arms into those sleeves, while another part of him was trying to remind him not to stare too long at the ace’s arms, lest Ushijima notice.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you eaten here before?” The ace’s deep voice cut through the thick night air. </p><p> </p><p>“No, have you?” Sakusa glanced over to the tall hazel-eyed player.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t recall it,” Ushijima’s voice drifted, as if trying to recall, “But our team may have visited it during my high school years.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see,” Sakusa nodded, trying his hardest to ignore the fact that as they walked, they’d slowly moved closer towards each other. He wasn’t sure if it was because they’d wanted to hear each other better as they walked, or...<em> well, what other reason could it be?  </em></p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, the brisk pace of the two had them reach the restaurant fairly quickly, and it wasn’t hard to locate a table of loud, tall volleyball players jabbering away and clinking glasses. Komori spotted them and flagged them to their table. </p><p> </p><p>“How was the walk? Not that far, right?” Komori beamed up at his cousin, as he took a seat beside him. Ushijima set his jacket on the back of the chair beside Sakusa and excused himself to the restroom. </p><p> </p><p>“No, it was great,” Sakusa’s voice dripped sarcasm, the tempo of his voice steadily rising. “We held hands, braided each other’s hair, talked about names for our first born child--” </p><p> </p><p>He only paused, as the libero snorted and nearly spewed his beer across the table, to which Sakusa gave his cousin a disgusted stare. “How <em> dare </em>you, Motoya.” </p><p> </p><p>“Wha--what are you talking about?” Komori choked, hitting his chest with his fist. Kageyama glanced over to check on him, but seeing he was okay, returned his focus to Hinata, who was in the middle of a long-winded story about one of his matches in Brazil.</p><p> </p><p>“You,” Sakusa repeated low, “You set me up to practice with Wakatoshi-kun after today’s challenge. <em> Then </em>you set it up for me to walk here alone with him?” </p><p> </p><p>“That was just a matter of coincidence,” Komori rebutted, his smile ever-so-sly, “Plus, I know you’ve wanted to practice with him one-on-one for how long, now? It just conveniently worked out, didn’t it?” </p><p> </p><p>“I could do without your orchestration,” Sakusa hissed. “Mind your own--”</p><p> </p><p>At that moment, Ushijima rejoined them at the table. “Omi-Omi!” Atsumu leaned forward, his head on the other side of Hinata, having just noticed their arrival. “Ya made it!” Atsumu waved with a wide grin, as Sakusa grimaced and turned away from his cousin.</p><p> </p><p>“ I’m going to wash my hands,” Sakusa left the table and took off towards the restroom. He glanced at the beer Komori had just spit up, "I hope to God you plan on cleaning that up, too."</p><p> </p><p>Komori blinked, his face suddenly pale. Ushijima was too busy saying hello to Bokuto and the others to notice, but Kageyama eyed the libero with slight concern. </p><p> </p><p>“You okay?”</p><p> </p><p><em> Kiyoomi-kun </em> , Komori’s eyes followed his cousin’s form as it disappeared behind the bathroom door, <em> For the first time since I’ve known you...you didn’t immediately go to the bathroom to wash your hands upon arriving at a restaurant. </em> A wave of realization washed over the libero, <em> He didn’t want Ushijima to hear him questioning me.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” The setter repeated, as this seemed to get the libero’s attention, “You okay?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Komori felt this revelation was the sign of... “It’s nothing.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>SO yeah, it only took us seven chapters, but here we are...it’s not a switch being flipped...heh heh, yet, more like...a hand being laid on the switch. </p><p> </p><p>I hope you liked the chapter!</p><p>Next time: Dinner and…another revelation. And more Sakusa <strike>tortur</strike>---ahem, <em> pining </em>. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Wormwood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This chapter has a lot of set up for Sakusa and the story to come...even if it’s not apparent...yet. </p><p>It came together a lot faster than I anticipated...is that a metaphor for this story, as well?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Luckily, by the time Sakusa returned from the restroom, Komori had cleaned the beer from the table top. As his cousin sat down, Komori raised his eyebrow, seeking his approval, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Up to your standards, Kiyoomi-kun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa gave a short huff, “I wouldn’t have sat down otherwise.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>True to Komori’s word, the yakitori was brought out shortly afterwards. Sakusa felt torn; on the one hand, he truly didn’t like public restaurants where they were crammed in like sardines. The air was hot in the tight space, a wave of claustrophobia crashing against the spiker. So he welcomed getting his food as soon as possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the other hand, though, the closeness had made him keenly aware of a few things about the southpaw spiker sitting to his right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>First off, Ushijima was wearing quite a bit of cologne. Normally, he associated heavy cologne-wearing with men like Atsumu and Yaku; flashy, flirty men who strutted around like overgrown peacocks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But Ushijima? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa tried to place the smell -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>fresh rain? The scent was...clean.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And Sakusa realized quickly that he liked it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was a problem. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The second thing he noticed was how closely Ushijima had shaved. He was careful to let his eyes not linger too long, but as the two listened to Ojiro Aran telling a story about one of his games, Sakusa found his eyes outlining the ace’s face. He realized then how sharply Ushijima’s jaw cut to connect to his ear and neck, and how the shave was so precise; his skin just looked...flawless. It was hard for him not to stare. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>This was a problem.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, there was his left hand. Unlike the others at the table, Ushijima had his left hand seemingly resting uncomfortably on the table. At times, the hand tended to waver and bump into Sakusa’s arm. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>This was a problem...but Sakusa was doing his best to practice politeness and not call the ace out. After about the third bump, though, it was Ushijima who finally spoke up. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I apologize,” He glanced over to Sakusa, who was swallowing a bite of Yakitori.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Sakusa lied. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I usually sit at the other end of a table when we eat,” Ushijima continued, “I’m left-handed, so my arm can rest over the side if I sit that way.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa suddenly realized that all mornings they’d eaten together, Ushijima had made sure to sit on the left hand side of the table, likely to avoid bumping anyone as he ate. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The dark-eyed spiker glanced down at Ushijima’s hand brushing his arm. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sure, it was touching his sleeve...but</span>
  </em>
  <span>…, “It’s okay,” He spoke after a beat. “Besides, it’s not as if you’re touching my food.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The ace stared for a moment, then gave the fellow spiker a small smile. “Thank you. I would make sure to never touch someone’s food with my hand, of course.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Satisfied, Sakusa nodded and the two continued eating their Yakitori. He suddenly felt a pair of eyes upon him, and glanced over to his own left, noticing his cousin Komori staring quite pointedly at him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Something on my face?” Sakusa finally caved and whispered to his cousin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” Komori whispered back, “Just trying to figure out who you are and where you’ve hidden my cousin, Kiyoomi-kun.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Sakusa rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Atsumu stretched as he led the group leaving the restaurant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shoyo bounced between him and Kageyama, “I told you this place was the best!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori was busy answering a text on his phone, as Aran and Bokuto continued to carry on a conversation behind him. Rounding out the group was Ushijima and Sakusa, both walking much more leisurely than they had coming to the restaurant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I would go back there,” Ushijima noted, “The yakitori was quite good.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded, and without really knowing why, he added, “Next time, we’ll just have to make sure you can sit on the left-hand side of the table.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as the words slipped out, Sakusa clamped his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure why his self-control was constantly being tested by Ushijima, but it was concerning. The ace’s eyes widened slightly, before a small smile broke across his face. “I would like that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again, Sakusa was glad the mask covered most of his face, as he was certain by the heat in his cheeks that they were crimson. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But he felt...lighter, somehow</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What was this feeling?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dinner had turned out so different than he anticipated. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It was...relieving? Was he happy? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The dark-haired spiker mulled this over as they trudged forward. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unbeknownst to Sakusa, his cousin was staring back at him, his eyes taken momentarily off his phone and wide with shock. Hinata noticed Komori’s concern, and tapped the libero on the arm, </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the matter, Komori-san?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You know how you were telling me Oikawa-san believed in aliens?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmhmm,” Shoyo nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m starting to believe him, too.” </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, Yaku-san is having everyone meet in Team Condor’s room!” Komori called out as they neared the dormitory. The entire group turned to stare at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that why you were buried in your phone?” Sakusa sighed, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No exceptions, everyone!” The libero chose to ignore his cousin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to bed,” Sakusa tried to start, but his cousin was quick to his side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hoshiumi-san says anyone who doesn’t come to their room will have him and Yaku-san waking them up at 4 am tomorrow. He said something about enlisting Miya-san and Hinata-san to--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Sakusa spat, moving past him. “Whatever, let’s get this over with.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Five minutes later, the group arrived at Team Condor’s room. Hyakuzawa and Gao were on the top bunks, so their height wouldn’t take as much space in the room. Yaku was hanging off the ladder of Hyakuzawa’s bunk, as Bokuto and Shoyo sat on the bed itself. Aran sat in the rolling chair in between the beds. Hoshiumi sat beside Miya under Gao’s bed, with Komori imitating Yaku, sitting on the ladder of the bunk beside them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa hated how cramped it was with them all shoved into the room. However, he couldn’t help but shuffle beside Ushijima as they hugged the wall, the ace sandwiched between Sakusa and Kageyama.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Could be worse</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the spiker found himself thinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gentlemen,” Yaku smiled, “We are going to be practicing together off and on for the next half a year. But, since we’ve been at this camp, we haven’t had the chance to hang out together casually.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Iwaizumi-san told our group after practice today that it was important we bond with one another,” Hyakuzawa added from above Yaku. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Yaku smiled up at him, “So, before we all part ways after this first camp is over tomorrow, let’s play a round of something! I know that some of us know each other as teammates, or from playing in high school together, but obviously we’ve had many experiences since then...so how about a friendly round of ‘Never Have I Ever?’”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are we, in middle school?” Sakusa immediately spoke up, wondering in his head whether it would be worth it to have Atsumu and Hinata waking him at 4 am. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kiyoomi-kun!” His cousin frowned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Komori-san,” Yaku smiled, stroking his chin. “What would you have us do instead, Sakusa-san?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go to sleep? To get ready for practice? The whole reason we’re here?” Sakusa fired back, noting a small tug at the corners of Ushijima’s mouth beside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Boooooo</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Yaku loudly rebutted, “Boring, Sakusa-san! Now,” he gleaned around the room, clapping his hands together. Sakusa noticed Hoshiumi pull out a small collapsible cooler from underneath the bunk bed. “Let’s start! We picked up beverages for everyone on the way back from dinner -- there’s tea, canned coffee, and of course, some beer as well!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone reached in and took an option; Sakusa was glad there were non-alcoholic options, as he had no intention of drinking amid this group. He grabbed a can of green tea, and noticed Ushijima did the same. Kageyama had a canned coffee, while everyone else had grabbed a beer from the cooler. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Who wants to go first?” Yaku looked around. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh! I’ll start!” Bokuto bounced on the mattress of the bunk bed, and then pointed beside him, “Uhm...Never have I ever,” His eyes suddenly gleamed as he glanced over towards Atsumu Miya, “...botched a confession with a fan!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Aran let out a loud laugh, as Atsumu turned beet red, taking a sip of his beer.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this about?” Yaku leaned forward, looking at Bokuto eagerly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bokuto motioned to Aran, who proceeded to recite a story involving Atsumu accepting the confession of a fangirl, but the confession had been for his twin brother; the fangirl had just confused the two at the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why we started dying our hair,” Miya mumbled, arms crossed at his chest, trying to ignore the roar of laughter around him. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go clockwise, so Aran, you’re next!” Yaku smiled, toasting his beer towards the ace.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Aran’s confession was tame, as he had never grabbed the wrong person’s shoes to wear for a match. Several in the room groaned and took a quick drink, causing the ace to chuckle. “You almost grabbed my shoes by mistake once!” Atsumu tried to counter.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Hoshiumi went next, “Never have I ever...gotten sick during a match!” He flashed a look to Hinata, who gave a gasp and then took a drink from his bottle. Sakusa eyed the room, and noticed Hyakuzawa and Atsumu took drinks as well. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Gao looked pensive for a moment from the top bunk. “Never have I ever purchased a shirt from the Nationals vendors.” There was a loud procession of groans and everyone except Sakusa, Komori, and Ushijima took drinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori went next, a devilish look in his eye as he rolled the beer bottle in his hands, “Never have I ever...infiltrated Shiratorizawa Academy uninvited.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was a surprised murmur through the room, and suddenly all eyes were on both Kageyama and Hinata, whose faces were bright red as they took a drink. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“T--that was cruel, Komori-san!” Hinata sputtered after his drink. His drink was half-way gone. The libero just smiled wider. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kageyama sighed, before going next. “Never have I ever served to the back of someone’s head before.” And this time, it was Kageyama’s turn to give a slightly sly smile towards Hinata, who gasped as if betrayed. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha---</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bakeyama</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Hinata growled, taking another swig. The room laughed, but laughed harder when Atsumu and Bokuto took drinks as well.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Miya-san! You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>kidding</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Yaku roared.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Shaddup,” The setter grumbled, “It was at my twin brother, and it was intentional.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The laughter in the room lingered as eyes fell onto Ushijima, who had seemed to be deep in thought this entire time. He held his can of tea closely under his chin as he finally spoke up, “Never have I ever been cursed at in a foreign language.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The group all gave an “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ooooh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” in unison, and immediately laughed when both Hinata and Yaku took drinks. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The libero shrugged, “When in Russia…”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata nodded, cheeks a faint pink blush at this point, “Same, but in Brazil.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We can imagine why someone would curse at Yaku,” Atsumu noted, ignoring the former Nekoma player glaring at him, “But who would cuss ya out, Shoyo-kun?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata smiled sheepishly, “Ahh, well, I worked a food delivery service in Rio...and sometimes...I got lost and was late with the food.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The room erupted in more laughter and Bokuto clinked his bottle against Hinata’s, reassuring him that it was okay. “It happens to the best of us!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, all eyes were on Sakusa, who had honestly zoned out for most of the conversation and hadn’t thought at all to what he would ask. Luckily for him, he was sure there was at least something he knew someone in the room hadn’t done. “Ehh, never have I ever missed a flu shot.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone except Sakusa, Ushijima, Komori, and Kageyama drank -- their faces all sheepishly pointed towards their bottles. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Sakusa quipped, his voice laced with disgust, “I’m so glad I was roomed with the only sane people of this team.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“My turn!” Yaku chirped as he sat up on the ladder, raising his beer in the air. “Never have I ever...</span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>...kissed a volleyball player!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The room went eerily silent. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, it seemed the group was processing Yaku’s words. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto finally spoke up, “Yaku-san...you said you’ve...never...</span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>...kissed a volleyball player?” He looked like an owl, his head cocked to the side, curiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Yaku smiled mischievously, “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>kissed a volleyball player. That’s why I had to word it like that. I want to know how many others of you have, too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fiend</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Komori shook his head slowly, clicking his tongue, but not taking a drink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All eyes looked around the room, and slowly, after a few seconds, there were six people that took a drink: Yaku, Bokuto, Aran, Hoshiumi, Atsumu, and Hinata. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room became chaotic. Sakusa nearly covered his ears, the raucous of laughter and incredulous cries were ear-splitting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hold on</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Yaku was hanging off the ladder, his eyes wildly looking around the room. “We need to know answers, now! Who have we all kissed?” His eyes ranged from Hinata, who was hiding behind his beer, to Atsumu, who was staring pointedly at the orange-haired spiker. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa noted that Kageyama, Ushijima, and Komori were also glancing curiously towards Hinata, though Kageyama’s expression was more disbelief than anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Who was </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>kiss?” Komori asked Yaku, his eyes trailing from Shoyo’s to the other libero’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, was, and still is, Lev Haiba,” Yaku shrugged as the room gave a wide-eyed gasp. “What? I started dating him after high school.” Yaku gave them all an incredulous stare, “I can’t believe you all didn’t know! Lev’s a famous model, here, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew,” Hinata said quietly, his cheeks rosy, “Kenma told me.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah! All of Nekoma knows,” Yaku huffed, “You all disappoint me!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto perked up, “Mine is--”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi! We know!” The majority of the room called out at once, cutting him off. The room then broke into a laugh. Bokuto deflated slightly, sipping his drink. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But I have to ask,” Yaku raised an eyebrow, “Did you kiss him while we were still in high school?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bokuto gasped, staring wide-eyed, “I didn’t even realize he liked me until he confessed during his graduation!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku snorted, “Seriously? Consider yourself lucky! At least you weren’t in an airport about to fly out to Russia when your 6’5” boyfriend decides to yell out his confession in the middle of the airport lobby in front of thousands of people.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds oddly romantic, though,” Atsumu mused with a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, I guess,” Yaku scoffed, but there was a cadence to his voice that hinted that perhaps he agreed with the setter. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you, Aran?” Komori looked over towards the ace, who had just finished taking a drink. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The setter for the Tachibana Red Falcons women’s team,” He grinned wide, “We’ve been dating for about a year now.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The team nodded and eyes went towards Atsumu, who held his bottle up to his mouth, “Oh, who? Me next?” He smirked, causing several eyes to roll. “Well, my first year, I actually had my first kiss from a volleyball player at Nationals.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori and Sakusa both straightened against the wall, causing glances to shift between Atsumu and the former Itachiyama players. The libero raised an eyebrow, “Wait…,” he slowly leaned towards the setter, “At Nationals...was it during…?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Our match against each other?” Atsumu’s smile was sly, his eyes closing suavely. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa frowned, looking knowingly towards his cousin, “Don’t tell me…”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The Captain,” Komori groaned. Sakusa rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Captain?” Bokuto tilted his head, curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Our captain was a third year wing spiker during our first year,” Komori sighed, “He was extremely talented, but also </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely </span>
  </em>
  <span>flirtatious with everyone on the court.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He spent half the tournament stalking players in between games,” Sakusa sneered. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I wondered if he was trying to date you!” Aran bumped Atsumu’s arm with his fist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was so suave,” Atsumu had his face cradled with his hands, “And his cross shots were unreal.” He sighed, “It was just a kiss in between games, though, nothing more.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you haven’t told anyone about this sooner?” Yaku shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it was just a fling,” Atsumu shrugged, “Besides --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--You didn’t think anyone would believe you?” Komori questioned with a smile, to which Atsumu gasped. The room broke into laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enough about it,” Atsumu pouted; cheeks red. He saw Hoshiumi taking a swig of his beer, “What about you Hoshi-kun? Who’s your mystery kisser?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hoshiumi puffed his chest, crossing his arms and seemingly taking pride in finally being asked. “Well, well,” the white-haired man smirked, “Mine would be from my current girlfriend.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu, who had been taking a drink, snorted, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Girlfriend</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Hoshiumi’s smirk widened, “Maybe you’ve heard of Shouko Hirugami?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aran’s jaw dropped, “She’s the Captain of the Red Rabbits V. League team! My girlfriend is terrified of her!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hirugami?” Komori smiled with recognition, “So...Sachirou and Fukurou’s sister?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. We just started dating,” Hoshiumi’s smile grew softer.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How does Fukurou feel about that?” Aran raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He thinks it’s great!” Hoshiumi crooned. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He thinks it’s terrifying,” Kageyama said at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He thinks it’s not going to work,” Ushijima said simultaneously. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The entire room burst into laughter, with Ushijima and Kageyama instantly silencing themselves, and Hoshiumi’s face turning red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well!” The white-haired man scoffed, “I’ll have you know that it’s none of the Captain’s business, my relationship with Shouko.” He crossed his arms and took another drink of his beer. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The laughter finally started to die down, and the former seagull eyed Hinata suspiciously. “That leaves you, Hinata.” All eyes transitioned to the former crow,  “You’re the last one to fess up!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Yaku leaned down, his face only about half a foot from Hinata’s, “I had no idea you had kissed anyone, let alone another volleyball player!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata had been quiet during most of the conversation, and had also been sipping his beer the entire time, the bottle now empty. “Hmmm, well, that’s because...it’s really nothing...it was just,” He glanced over at Atsumu, whose eyes were wide with curiosity, “Well, it was sort of like what Atsumu-san was describing.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooooh, a fling!” Yaku smiled. “I would never have guessed you to have one, Hinata!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Several in the room nodded. Sakusa noticed his cousin eying Kageyama, who looked rather stunned at this recent piece of information. The setter’s eyes were trained on Hinata, whose blush had spread from his cheeks now down over his neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hyakuzawa, who had been quiet most of the evening, leaned over the bunk, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, Hinata-san.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Hinata smiled up at him, “I’m not embarrassed! It’s just,” He pursed his lips, “an awkward situation.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, rule of the evening,” Yaku announced, “Nothing said in this room leaves this room!” He glanced over to Shoyo, “If that helps? I agree with Hyakuzawa, though; you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you all told yours,” Hinata waved his hands in front of him, “It’s just...well...see I was in Rio--” he paused for the whooping of the room to quiet, “--and it wasn’t anything crazy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who would have guessed Hinata would have had some beach volleyball action?” Gao noted from the top bunk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hoshiumi harrumphed, “I’m not surprised.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But Hinata-san,” Komori steered the conversation back, “if this was a beach volleyball player in Rio, why would it be something embarrassing now?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the thing,” Hinata sheepishly scratched the back of his head, “It’s not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>beach </span>
  </em>
  <span>volleyball player.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The room went silent. Komori’s mouth snapped shut, as Atsumu leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. Yaku had a finger tapping his chin, seemingly pondering what Hinata’s words meant. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But Sakusa had an idea about this mystery player, and judging by the stiff straightening of Ushijima’s back beside him, and Kageyama not-so-subtly clenching the coffee can on the other side of him, it was clear who it was.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it Tohru Oikawa?” Sakusa spoke up, and all eyes were instantly on him, and then snapped towards Hinata, who inhaled slowly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhm….yep,” Hinata exhaled. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The room became chaotic. “Isn’t that the setter for Argentina?” Aran stared wide-eyed. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu nodded, clenching his shirt at the chest, “Our Shoyo-kun has a type!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was a sudden </span>
  <em>
    <span>CLUNK!</span>
  </em>
  <span> And everyone turned to see Kageyama’s coffee can had slipped from his hand and fell to the floor, spilling coffee across the carpet. Sakusa </span>
  <em>
    <span>tch</span>
  </em>
  <span>’d but Komori jumped down off the ladder to help, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No worries, Kageyama,” Komori motioned for him to follow him, “Come with me, and I’ll help you get some towels and cleaning supplies.” The two quickly disappeared from the room, Ushijima and Sakusa’s eyes following them, while the rest of the room was still in awe at Hinata’s confession.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Bokuto slapped Hinata on the back, “That’s fine, though! Why are you embarrassed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because I think he might be with Iwaizumi-san, now!” Hinata hid his face in his hands, “They weren’t together at the time, but I think they are now, and I don’t want it to be awkward between us going into the Olympics.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That is a conundrum,” Yaku shrugged, “But Iwaizumi-san is a rational adult, and we won’t say anything, Hinata-san!” The rest of the room nodded in agreement, and Hinata exhaled. “Now,” The libero leaned forward, “let’s hear some details, because I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>many questions!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa, though, had no interest in such things. He turned to Ushijima, “Are you interested in hearing about Hinata making out with Oikawa-san?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not,” Ushijima frowned at the spiker, “Do you think we can leave?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Yaku and the others were gathered around and listening intently to Hinata. “I think we can sneak off,” Sakusa nodded, and the two slid across the wall and out the dorm door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out in the hallway, they were met by Kageyama and Komori, hands full of paper towels and cleaning supplies. Kageyama was in the lead, his face unreadable. Komori trailed him, looking apprehensive. The two stopped beside the spikers.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We decided to take our leave,” Ushijima sighed, “It’s getting late.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll be right behind you,” Komori nodded, “We’re just going to clean up the coffee.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We will see you back in the room,” the hazel-eyed ace waved and the two pairs parted ways. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was silence for a moment as Sakusa and Ushijima approached their dorm. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know it was Oikawa?” Ushijima asked as Sakusa opened the door to their room. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hinata told us he met Oikawa in Rio while he was overseas,” Sakusa shrugged, “He told us that the first week he joined the Black Jackals; I’m surprised Bokuto and Atsumu didn’t recall and put two and two together.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see,” Ushijima nodded. Sakusa walked into the bathroom to wash his hands; over the sound of the facet, he heard the ace add, “You have a good memory, don’t you?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa turned the water off. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What did he mean by that? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He dried his hands and slowly made his way out of the bathroom. “Why do you ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just curious,” Ushijima replied, but there was something about his tone, the way he had turned his body from Sakusa while saying it, that gave the spiker the impression Ushijima wanted to say more...but for some reason, was afraid to. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was considering whether or not to ask Ushijima to elaborate, when Komori and Kageyama arrived back. Both of them seemed to be in better spirits than when they had seen them in the hall. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that was a fun evening!” Komori smiled, his arms crossed behind his head. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If any more social bonding events are required like that for this team,” Sakusa frowned, “please make a note I won’t be in attendance.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Komori shook his head, “I’d tell you to lighten up, Kiyoomi-kun, but I know you better.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Sakusa immediately replied, “glad that’s understood.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Kageyama,” Ushijima had pulled back the covers of his bunk, “We never got to ask you this evening, but what was our reward for winning today’s challenge?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The setter, who had been digging through his duffel bag, stopped and straightened. “Oh, I did forget to tell you all.” His face broke into a slight smile, as he glanced between his three roommates, “You all brought running shoes, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My Aunt is left-handed, and she always insisted on sitting on the left hand side of the table at restaurants, so I thought that’d be a neat note to apply here with Ushijima. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>LOT </span>
  </em>
  <span>of fun with this chapter -- anytime the guys all get together and just...talk...is so much fun to write! I can’t believe how long this chapter ended up -- there’s been a LOT of things set up in this chapter that I can’t talk about yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m not sure if I’ll have the next chapter out nearly as soon as this one, but I hope you at least enjoyed this chapter and the story so far!</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Achilles Tendinopathy: The Start</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Team Control plans a marathon as the last challenge of the training weekend.</p><p>Running through the city with Ushijima...shouldn’t be too hard, right?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>There was still some buzz about last night’s ‘social gathering,’ though no one dared to mention Hinata’s fling with Oikawa, lest Iwaizumi heard. Everyone was certain, based on Hinata’s theorizing, that their personal trainer was at least involved with the Argentenian setter now, and didn’t want the orange-haired spiker to feel any more uncomfortable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Still,” Yaku shook his head, gazing at Hinata walking by as he turned towards Sakusa, Komori, and Atsumu in the breakfast line for food, “I just can’t believe Hinata is that…,” struggling to find another way to put it, “...</span>
  <em>
    <span>experienced</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t remind me!” Atsumu slung his head dramatically to the side, “I always thought of him as that scrawny, timid crow...and now...he’s an adult who’s…,” Atsumu sighed and trailed off in his rambling, as Sakusa moved on ahead alongside Komori, leaving the setter to lament beside a slightly bemused Yaku.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quit talking about Hinata like he’s your child,” Sakusa sneered at Atsumu, who scoffed aloud in offense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>C--child</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Omi-kun!” Atsumu’s eyes were saucers as he stuttered, “I don’t think he’s -- I didn’t say he was a child!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span> The spiker rolled his eyes and ignored Miya as he moved towards the table to eat breakfast with his roommates.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Afterwards, they all gathered at the center of the gym, where  Iwaizumi and Coach Hibarida stood ready for them. Sakusa noticed Hinata was conveniently standing behind Hyakuzawa, his cheeks a rosy tint. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Kageyama, Sakusa, Ushijima, and Komori’s team were the winners in yesterday’s contest,” Iwaizumi started off, “So, their reward is choosing our route for the challenge today.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Coach Hibarida stepped forward, “You all have shown you have skills as receivers, servers, and spikers,” He smiled, “But, volleyball isn’t just a game of technique. It involves incredible stamina, as I’m sure you all know full and well.” There were several nods around the gym and murmurs of agreement. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How many five set games have we played?” Atsumu smirked, eying his teammates, who nodded eagerly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For today’s challenge,” Iwaizumi cut in, “We are going to test your endurance and stamina by going on an extended marathon. The winners from yesterday were given the choice of which pattern we would run today -- if any of you complain about the path, distance, or difficulty...blame them.” He smirked, eyes glinting towards Team Control.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There were whispers and talk among the group. Sakusa couldn’t blame them for being either nervous or excited; personally, he hadn’t cared what route was picked -- a sentiment he was surprised to find Ushijima sharing with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We should make it really difficult,” Komori smiled innocently, though his eyebrows indicated anything but. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Agreed,” Kageyama smirked himself, as the two of them poured over the series of route options Iwaizumi had given them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sakusa stood behind the two, lazily glancing over to see Ushijima sorting through his duffel bag. “Don’t you care about the route?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ushijima straightened; his back was to Sakusa, so he glanced over his shoulder, blinking, “Do you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The spiker frowned, “Obviously not, but I asked you first.” His eyes narrowed at the avoidance of his question.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ah, no, I don’t care,” Ushijima was looking down at his bag, but his eyes had a sharpness to them as they shifted back to meet Sakusa’s, “I’m going to take the challenge the same regardless of the route.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sakusa had always been aware of Ushijima’s unwavering strength in the face of any hurdle thrown his way; it was one of the things he admired about the ace. His unyielding desire to see a challenge through to its end. It was admirable, yes, but it was also tied directly to how Sakusa himself treated any task laid in front of him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“True,” The spiker shrugged, twisting at the top of the water bottle in his hand, “I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?” He hoped that the room was as warm as his face felt at that moment. If his cheeks were pinker than normal, the hazel-eyed ace didn’t let on.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The running path that Kageyama and Komori had picked was one that would later be referred to as “The Route of Hell” by the Olympic team. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The route went from the Sendai arena to completely circling the Tohoku University Katahira campus, careening back towards the Sendai City Museum, to the site of the Sendai castle, to the Kawauchi campus of Tohoku University, past Nisi Park and to the Miyagi Museum of Art, before wrapping back around to the arena. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s nearly 21 kilometers!” Atsumu whined, after tracking the route on his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re running it all this morning,” Iwaizumi smirked. “Again, blame Team Control,  not me.” </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fortunately, it was a beautiful day for a run.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Kageyama and Hinata were, of course, the first in line ready to start. Apparently, according to Kageyama, the pair frequently ran marathons like this in high school for training. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It’s where I first met the pair,” Ushijima noted matter-of-factly, bending his leg backwards in a stretch, “On a run at Shiratorizawa my third year.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded, careful not to let his eyes linger too long on Wakatoshi as he stretched; though it was hard not to when the ace made every single move seem deliberately slow, just so the spiker could soak in the view of his muscles stretched taut against his clothing. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Figures,” Sakusa mumbled, realizing perhaps a minute too late that he hadn’t replied back to Ushijima’s comment. The ace tilted his head curiously, and Sakusa had to look away. He didn’t wear his mask while running, so it wasn’t there to hide the pink dusting across his face. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Iwaizumi held up a red flag above his head, “The first team that makes it back successfully and in its entirety will win today’s challenge! On your mark, get set, go!” he flung the flag towards the ground and everyone took off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, Bokuto and Hinata took off in a sprint, with Atsumu Miya trailing like a hapless dog, along with Kageyama and Komori following shortly behind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa, in no hurry to overtax himself right off the bat, was in the middle tier of runners, along with Ushijima, Hoshiumi, and Ojiro. Hyakuzawa, Yaku, and Gao made up the last group of runners, though they weren’t far behind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pace yourself!” Yaku called out to Hoshiumi, as he led the two taller middle blockers behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pffft, </span>
  <em>
    <span>obviously</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Hoshiumi tossed his head, “Those idiots up ahead will be exhausted before we even make it to the City Museum.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s odd,” Ushijima noted casually, running beside Sakusa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What is?” Sakusa raised a brow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Normally, Kageyama and Hinata were always dead even on these runs. But he’s letting Hinata and Bokuto lead the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, hopefully, he’s smart and listens to our plan this morning -- this isn’t a race. It’s an endurance test. Let those monsters use up all their energy first.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm, I suppose,” but the furrowed brow of the ace made Sakusa wonder what he was thinking. There was clearly a lingering thought in his mind, though he didn’t seem confident enough to voice it. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind, Wakatoshi-kun? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa frowned, as they crossed the street and started towards the university campus. </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The middle group had lost sight of Kageyama, Komori, Bokuto, Hinata, and Miya. Ojiro had started to run ahead, “To catch up to the crazy,” he called out as he picked up speed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa rolled his eyes, “They’re using too much speed this early on,” to which both Ushijima and Hoshiumi nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, as they rounded the end of the university campus, Hoshiumi seemed to be growing impatient with keeping his steady speed. As they made their way towards the Sendai City Museum, Hoshiumi let out a loud huff and cranked his head towards Sakusa and Ushijima. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You two are </span>
  <em>
    <span>boring</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Hoshiumi snarled, and upon seeing Ushijima raise an eyebrow, he added, “Say something!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re running,” Ushijima added matter-of-factly, “It would take up much more energy to--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>UGH</span>
  </em>
  <span>, come on, Ushijima-kun! How does Kageyama run every morning before practice with you and not die from boredom?!” Hoshiumi glared at Sakusa, “Don’t have anything to say, either?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I normally run alone,” Sakusa frowned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why am I not surprised?!” Hoshiumi groaned, throwing his hands up in the air with disbelief. “Whatever, I’m going to run ahead and see if I can catch up with Ojiro-san and the others.” And with that he picked up his pace until he was out of sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the next few minutes, the two ran in silence; only the sounds of their footsteps heard against the pavement. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The plan is still to keep a close pace until we reach the Miyagi Art Museum, correct?” Ushijima looked over towards Sakusa. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That was the plan,” Sakusa shrugged, “Kageyama said he’d text us when he and Komori reached there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Team Chaos will likely have exerted themselves to exhaustion by the time they reach the museum,” Ushijima noted curtly, “And Yaku and the middle blockers are pacing like us, but once we reach the museum and all run back, I believe we can outrun them to finish.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was another few minutes of silence, as they ran around the site of the Sendai castle. Sakusa looked at the beautiful scenery around them, then towards the ace, and he couldn’t stop himself from smirking. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Honestly...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>This caught Ushijima’s eye, “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hoshiumi-san just yelled at us because we were too quiet, and then as soon as he leaves we’re babbling idiots.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima shrugged, “Our conversation didn’t include him, I suppose,” and he strode on ahead, leaving Sakusa behind him with just a tint of blush etched across his face. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Our conversation…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was a statement that stuck with Sakusa as they crossed over to the second part of Tohoku University’s campus. The air was chilly that morning, but Sakusa wouldn’t have noticed, the warmth spread throughout him as they continued. </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The path would narrow as they went to cross the bridge over the Hirose River leading towards the Miyagi Art Museum.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Ushijima ran in front, keeping his pace a good foot in front of Sakusa. The dark-haired spiker had to admit that he preferred having Ushijima in front of him like this. That way, the ace was none-the-wiser to Sakusa’s eyes lingering over the ace’s frame as he ran in front of him. He also wouldn’t have to worry about Ushijima seeing the reddening of his ears, as he felt the heat rise from his neck, over his face, and at his ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was as the two of them went towards the crosswalk that it happened. The light was red; the two of them had the right-of-way. Ushijima was already across and on the bridge. Sakusa was in the far lane and close to the bridge when he heard a honking to his left. A car had run the light and was about to hit Sakusa head-on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without a moment’s hesitation, his body jerked towards the bridge to miss the oncoming car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In mid-spin, he tripped himself, knees bending against the railing of the bridge. He was so shocked by the near collision with the car, he couldn’t react as he stumbled backwards. He reached out to grab the side of the railing, but his hands missed the bars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m falling,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa realized, his mind blank and body locking up as he was in freefall.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I need to -- what do I d--</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was suddenly a fist clenching the front of his shirt; another hand had snaked behind him, firmly against his back, as Sakusa felt his body cease falling and lift forward towards the pavement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His feet reconnected with the sidewalk and Sakusa was pulled into an embrace by his rescuer. His mind and body reeling, the curly-haired spiker clutched the back of the man who’d saved him. His head was pressed into the man’s shoulder, and a faint scent of rain now tickled his nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wakatoshi-kun.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa slowed his erratic breathing and lifted his head, his dark eyes immediately gazing into the hazel ones in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’s face was pale, his breathing heavier; his face dripping in sweat from the run. It was taking all Sakusa had in his brain to register the fact that Wakatoshi Ushijima had just single-handedly saved him from falling over the bridge into the Hirose River. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, there was silence; just their breathing and the two looking numbly at one another. “Are--are you alright?” Ushijima breathed, his voice still deep despite being so quiet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Sakusa nodded, but was suddenly aware he was actually still being held in Ushijima’s arms, the two of them looking more like a couple posing romantically on a bridge than those who’d just experienced a near-traumatic incident. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I’m sorry Wakatoshi-kun,” Sakusa dropped his arms and immediately distanced himself a foot from the ace, careful to move away from the bridge’s edge. “Thank you...for...just now.” He bowed his head slightly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You saved me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That driver was careless,” Ushijima frowned, eying the traffic passing them with disdain, “You could have been hit if you hadn’t jumped out of the way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should have paid more attention,” Sakusa sighed, rubbing his head, eyes connecting with Ushijima, “But I’m glad you were there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no shame or deception in that moment. There was no denying Sakusa indeed would have either been hit or fell off the bridge if the ace hadn’t been with him. The spiker didn’t care how it sounded, or if his face was beet red; in that moment, he was more grateful for the hazel-eyed ace’s presence than anything in recent memory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’s eyes widened, and Sakusa saw an expression he’d never seen on the ace’s face before. It was...</span>
  <em>
    <span>surprise? Amusement? How else to describe it? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa pondered as the ace slowly let his eyes soften and a small smile formed on his lips in return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am glad I was, too. Now,” Ushijima started to pick his feet up and down, jogging in place, “We should catch up to everyone.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa smirked, shaking his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was glad Ushijima was still thinking of the task at hand and not lingering on the somewhat awkward moment between them just now. “Right. I’m good to go.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two started jogging forward towards the Miyagi Art Museum; as they neared another street crosswalk, Ushijima held his arm in front of Sakusa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We might want to look both ways for traffic this time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa opened his mouth to protest, when he suddenly snapped it shut. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Waka--did you -- that was a joke, wasn’t it?” His eyes stared wide at the ace, whose lips curled into a slight smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re more perceptive than earlier,” Ushijima said, his tone lighter, as the light changed and he started to jog ahead, leaving a slightly befuddled curly-haired spiker in his wake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He just teased me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa’s brain frazzled, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was Wakatoshi-kun...flirting?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa could not know for certain, but a part of him wondered if he’d actually died on that bridge, or if upon being saved, had crossed back over into another alternate dimension.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because there was no way on Earth this was reality. </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hmmmmmmm…so NOW WHAT, Sakusa?! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sorry for this chapter having a bit of a wait on it -- I hope the wait was worth it. What’s the lesson here...pacing? Hmmm...we shall see! ^^</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thank you SO MUCH for reading! </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>I hope you like “Part Two” to come soon!</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Achilles Tendinopathy: The Finish Line</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa makes it to the finish line of a literal marathon.<br/>And finds himself about to start another. Sort of.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kiyoomi Sakusa was choosing to ignore the fact that he’d nearly been hit by a car.</p><p>Ignoring the fact that he’d nearly fallen into the Hirose River.</p><p>Ignoring the fact that he’d been saved by the man he’d covertly had a crush on since middle school.</p><p> </p><p>And ignoring the fact that this man had just literally made two passes at flirting with him. <em> Hadn’t he? That was flirting, right? Or was he misreading the situation? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Sakusa,” Ushijima’s deep voice brought the spiker back to reality, “Are you alright?” </p><p> </p><p>The spiker realized he hadn’t spoken for nearly five minutes. Sakusa ran a hand through his curly hair, wincing as he felt sweat slick his palm. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, fine,” He reached in his pocket and grabbed the tiny bottle of hand sanitizer he always carried with him, immediately squeezing some into his hand. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ushijima was watching him and he suddenly felt a jolt of self-conscious energy. </p><p> </p><p><em>Was Wakatoshi-kun judging? No, surely not. </em> Ushijima didn’t seem like the type to judge someone, and he’d seen how Sakusa was with his habits from the last two days. <em> Why should this be any surprise, now? </em></p><p> </p><p>As they neared the Miyagi Art Museum, Sakusa did start to feel a sense of dread gathering in the pit of his stomach, “I haven’t heard from Komori or Kageyama. They should have texted already.” </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll call them and check,” Ushijima pulled his phone from deep within his track short’s pocket and after punching in some numbers, the call was placed. “We are near the museum.” A muffled voice answered.  “Are you there? Okay, thank you.” He closed the phone and gave Sakusa a sideways glance, “They’re meeting us at the entrance.” </p><p> </p><p>The pair of them rounded the corner and sure enough, Kageyama and Komori were there to meet them. The pair looked a bit out of breath, which was no doubt in Sakusa’s mind from running so fast to get to that point. Still, though, they didn’t look too  exhausted.</p><p> </p><p>“Where is everyone?” Ushijima took the opportunity to stretch his legs, but Kageyama and Komori did not stop to chat, going right past them. </p><p> </p><p>“We can talk while we run!” Komori huffed, irritated, which caught Ushijima and Sakusa by surprise. The pair followed suit, trailing the setter and libero.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong?” Sakusa called out to his cousin as they started back towards the gymnasium. </p><p> </p><p>“You two took too long, that’s what!” Komori swung his head back. “Atsumu was about to pass out when you called, Ushijima-san. He over-ran himself and his roommates were trying to coax him up so they could head back.” His eyes narrowed on Sakusa, “But Hoshiumi already left! What were you two doing to take so long?”</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa’s mind froze. <em> What do I say? Oh, nothing much, Motoya; just being rescued and held in the arms of my cr-- </em></p><p> </p><p>“We were pacing ourselves like we planned,” Ushijima spoke up, his expression blank.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa held his breath, as Komori rolled his eyes, “Well, you both took it too literally!” </p><p> </p><p>“What does it matter?” Sakusa scoffed,  “Yaku-san and the others were behind us, so if all four of us make it back first, we still win.” </p><p> </p><p>“Let’s hope so,” Kageyama finally added, though Sakusa couldn’t see his face, him still running ahead of him. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa sighed; Ushijima had covered for their situation on the bridge. There was the question of why, but Sakusa was already realizing he was going to need some space and time after all this to sort some things out...for now, though, he didn’t have the luxury of focusing on anything but the task ahead. The marathon needed to be completed first.</p><p> </p><p>As the four neared the arena, they could hear an indistinct squawk behind them. Kageyama’s shoulders flinched, as he threw his head back, eyebrows furrowed in an annoyed fashion. “That boke, Hinata.” </p><p> </p><p>“They’re on their way to catch up,” Ushijima frowned.</p><p> </p><p>Komori’s eyes looked frustrated, but he smirked nonetheless, “It’s too late for them, though. We’re at the arena already! Let’s go!”</p><p> </p><p>The four of Team Control trudged their way forward. Sakusa hated how sweaty he was; he could taste the salty sweat dripping into his mouth, feel the bugs and grime coating his skin, and his thighs felt they would split open at any moment. He needed a hot bath and to go straight to bed. However, it was likely only around noon and they still had another <em> half day </em>of practice left. The dark-haired spiker sighed, eyes closing. This was indeed a day of endurance.</p><p> </p><p>Kageyama swung open the door of the gymnasium and the four rushed in. The hallway was barren, the only sounds being the squeak of their running shoes on the tile. Sakusa inhaled deeply.<em> They made it. Twenty-one kilometers later, and they were the winners of the challenge. It was finally over. </em></p><p> </p><p>The four saw the open gym doors, and Iwaizumi hovering around the dry erase board situated at the middle of the gym floor. The personal trainer turned and smiled as the four ran into the gym, a flood of fluorescent light nearly blinding them. </p><p> </p><p>“Good work!” Iwaizumi called out with a smile, as the four stopped a few yards into the gym entrance. Sakusa stopped and bent over slightly, his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths. Drops of sweat trickled from his face to plop onto the gym floor. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, not bad --” a smug voice caused Sakusa to raise his head. The spiker’s eyes widened in disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>Standing in front of them was Team Condor; Yaku, Gao, Hoshiumi, and Hyakuzawa standing with towels laid over their shoulders. Gao was still wiping his forehead with one. </p><p> </p><p>“-- for a group of slackers,” Hoshiumi finished his sentence, beaming triumphantly. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re joking!” Komori exhaled loudly with a groan. “How!?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hoshiumi said you all were taking a break in the Art Museum,” Yaku pointed between Kageyama and Komori, “when he joined us outside and we sprinted back.”</p><p> </p><p>“They must have got here right before us,” Ushijima frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“But they were behind us the whole day,” Sakusa questioned, standing back up, his eyes narrowing on the four. <em> How did they beat us? Did they use a shortcut?  </em></p><p> </p><p>Yaku gave a sideways glance towards Sakusa, while Gao slung the white cloth over his shoulder, “At least we finally won a challenge.”</p><p> </p><p>At that moment, Team Chaos flooded into the gym. </p><p> </p><p>“Ahhh!” Atsumu Miya flopped onto the floor, his chest rising and falling heavily. Ojiro stepped around his tangle of limbs.</p><p> </p><p>“Man, we’re last,” He exhaled with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>“How?!” Bokuto bounced beside Ojiro, his face illuminated with disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>“Kageyama!” Hinata called out, sprinting over to Team Control, “Want to do a rematch? Right now?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you serious?” Kageyama huffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t sound so much like Tsukishima!” Hinata teased, punching his arm.</p><p> </p><p>The chatter continued amongst the group. Kageyama and Hinata were bickering about re-running the marathon after the day’s activities were over, Bokuto had cornered Gao and Hyakuzawa, asking how they won the race, Hoshiumi and Ojiro were trying to lift Atsumu off the floor and get him to walk to the water fountain, and Ushijima and Komori were refilling their water bottles at the fountain. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa, worried Komori would start to question Ushijima further on why they were “late” to meeting up with them, starting to walk towards the pair. He was cut off, though, by Morisuke Yaku.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Sakusa-san,” the libero cocked his head to the side, “follow me over here for a second,” He motioned towards the bathroom. </p><p> </p><p>The curly-haired spiker narrowed his eyes, “Why?” </p><p> </p><p>“Girl talk,” Yaku smiled nonchalantly, but then his voice became serious, “Please, just for a moment.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa didn’t want to follow the libero to the bathroom; his eyes flickered back over to Ushijima and Komori, who was chatting enthusiastically with the ace. However, it didn’t look like his cousin was pushing asking about anything from earlier that day.</p><p> </p><p> Plus, there was the libero Yaku, who was eying Sakusa with such intensity, it was unnerving. He had heard from his cousin that Yaku was known as “The Demon Senpai” on Nekoma’s team...apparently that status had not changed with him joining the Russian League. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine, whatever.” Sakusa exhaled with an annoyed sigh, following the shorter man towards the men’s restroom. As they neared the bathroom door, the dark-eyed spiker raised his voice, “Why are we speaking over here, again?”</p><p> </p><p>“It's none of my business, but I was trying to get some privacy and save you the embarrassment of asking you in front of everyone,” Yaku turned, his eyes glinting. </p><p> </p><p>“Ask me what?” Sakusa raised an eyebrow. “And why would I be embarrassed? What's none of your business--” </p><p> </p><p>“Are you and Ushijima-san in a relationship?” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa’s blood ran cold. His breath caught in his chest and his body froze in his tracks. He no longer felt grimy and sweaty; in fact, every part of him felt numb in that moment. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Are you and Ushijima-san in a relationship? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Yaku whistled low, his head tilting to the side, “So, no, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you --,” Sakusa stammered, trying to regain control of the situation, “--talking about?”</p><p> </p><p>“We ran past you at the bridge before the Art Museum earlier,” Yaku said matter-of-factly, “We were on the other side of the bridge when we crossed. Gao and Hyakuzawa had their earbuds in and weren’t paying attention, of course,” the libero’s mouth tugged into a mischievous smirk, “But I saw you two from the other side --” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa’s mind went into a panic. <em> Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it --  </em></p><p> </p><p>“-- You do quite the nice job of playing the damsel in distress.” </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Stop </em>,” Sakusa spat, “Just shut--” </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t see everything. What happened?” Yaku cut him off, his voice innocently curious. </p><p> </p><p>“I was almost hit by a car,” the spiker dead-panned, eager to silence him. The libero’s eyes widened. “I had to jump out of the way and tripped over the railing.” It sounded so stupid saying it out loud.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” The libero murmured. “I saw Ushijima-san grab you, but wasn’t sure what happened. You two were just hugging each other, so I thought --” Yaku stopped himself, his face suddenly pale. “-- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa exhaled slowly. <em> Good, he thinks he misunderstood the situation. </em> Sakusa suddenly pursed his lips, brows furrowing. <em> The last thing I need is... </em></p><p> </p><p>“But, Sakusa-san,” Yaku noticed the spiker’s expression and slowly leaned towards him, his eyes softening, “If I’m not assuming…if there’s anything you want to talk about, you know you can--”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Spare me </em>,” Sakusa rolled his eyes and started to walk past Yaku, but the libero grabbed his forearm. This caused the spiker to freeze, his eyes immediately locking onto the gesture.</p><p> </p><p>“Sakusa-san,” Yaku’s eyes were laser-focused onto the spiker’s, “I’m serious.” Despite their height difference, the power of the libero’s gaze made him seem meters taller. “I know you have your cousin on the team, but if you don’t want to share--”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sakusa glared at the libero, silencing him instantly. He gave the libero a onceover glance, “Are you planning to follow me to the urinal, too?” </p><p> </p><p>Yaku released his arm, letting out a hollow chuckle, “Ha, no.” His eyes were suddenly somber, his voice softer, “Sorry, I overstepped, Sakusa-san.” </p><p> </p><p>“Just forget it,” Sakusa scoffed, turning from the libero and disappearing behind the bathroom door. “It’s fine.” </p><p> </p><p>As the door closed behind him, Yaku sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Is it, Sakusa-san?” </p><p> </p><p>Inside the restroom, Sakusa bent over the sink and splashed hot water over his face. </p><p> </p><p>Yaku’s words rung in his ears. <em> Why would I need to talk to him if I have Motoya on the team with me? Why would I need to talk to Motoya anyway? Why --? </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Arrrghhh!” Sakusa groaned, grabbed at his hair in fistfuls, and then snapped a paper towel off of the dispensary beside him, running it through the hot water and scrubbing his arms. He dried his face and arms with another towel, lifting his head to stare at himself in the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re in control,” Sakusa told the reflection. The man in the mirror had no response.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Everyone had finally collected themselves at the center of the gym. Atsumu Miya was back to normal, having finally gotten a drink, and was back to his usual antics -- arguing with Hoshiumi over Team Condor’s win. Sakusa rejoined his teammates, making sure to avoid Yaku, who eyed him cautiously from across the gym.</p><p> </p><p>“There you are!” Komori tilted his head towards him, “In the bathroom, I take it?” He glanced over Sakusa’s freshly washed arms. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Sakusa nodded curtly, glad to see the conversation cut short as Iwaizumi approached the group, Coach Hibarida alongside him. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, everyone!” Iwaizumi started, his voice booming. “This morning’s activity was done in expert time, which Coach Hibarida and I were excited about. Of course, this definitely won’t be the first time we have a challenge like this.” </p><p> </p><p><em> Joy, </em> Sakusa frowned. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure you’ve noticed the winners of this final challenge.” Iwaizumi continued, pausing for Hoshiumi to let out a victorious cry, jumping up into the air, as his teammates laughed beside him. “Yes, congratulations. As the winners, Hoshiumi, Yaku, Gao, and Hyakuzawa will have input in the next training camp we host after this.” </p><p> </p><p>“Obviously,” Coach Hibarida interjected, stepping forward, “you all have worked hard this morning, and we do not want to overexert you to injury this afternoon.” He glanced at Iwaizumi, who nodded, and then back at the group, “As such, we will allow you to choose your activity this afternoon to practice. Do not push yourself. We will eat lunch as a group in a few minutes and then practice for the rest of the afternoon until 4 pm’s final stretches. We will do one last debrief at that point and then our first training camp will be completed.” </p><p> </p><p>“Lunch is served in the commons area,” Iwaizumi took back the conversation. “Enjoy your meal and we will see you back at 1 pm.” </p><p> </p><p>The teammates, their muscles crying for nutrients and rest after running all morning, piled into the commons area to grab as much food as they could before sitting back at their tables. There was little conversation as the group gobbled their food. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa kept finding himself glancing over to Team Condor’s table. Hoshiumi was the only one talking, arguing back and forth with Bokuto about something. The rest were consumed with their meals. The spiker eyed Yaku, who was taking quick bites of rice. </p><p> </p><p>“What are you going to do this afternoon, Kiyoomi-kun?” Komori leaned forward, glancing towards his cousin and drawing his gaze back to the table.</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t decided,” Sakusa frowned. “What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to practice serves,” His cousin smiled, “I didn’t get much practice on it this week. What about the rest of you?” He eyed the ace and setter. </p><p> </p><p>“I believe I’m going to practice serves as well,” Kageyama didn’t look up from his soba noodles, “Atsumu is still ahead of me in that area, so I need to catch up.” </p><p> </p><p>Ushijima nodded, “I could practice that as well. Or,” His eyes flickered towards Kageyama, “I could practice receiving. Could you serve to me for this afternoon’s practice?” </p><p> </p><p>“I could,” Kageyama nodded. </p><p> </p><p>“Ooh, Kiyoomi-kun! I could serve to you if you wanted!” The libero’s eyes lit up as he leaned across the table.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess so,” Sakusa didn’t feel like arguing with his cousin. To be honest, he hadn’t even contemplated what he was going to be doing this afternoon. His thoughts had been muddled since the bridge incident this morning, and try as he might, he hadn’t been able to fully focus on anything else. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “If there’s anything you want to talk about, you know you can --” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Yaku’s words rang in his ears, but Sakusa closed his eyes; a quiet moment of meditation to silence them. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The rest of the afternoon went by quickly. Komori and Kageyama served Sakusa and Ushijima side by side. “Why are you even practising serving? You’re a libero,” Sakusa sighed after tossing the ball back to him. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, serving is the one aspect of volleyball I rarely get to practice,” Komori blinked innocently, “I mean, I’ve pretty much mastered the other aspects, <em> so… </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Kageyama smirked and Sakusa rolled his eyes, “Full of yourself, much?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you kidding?” Komori laughed, pointing to himself, “I’m the humblest of this group!” He laughed louder as none of the other three seemed to be able to form a counterargument. </p><p> </p><p>By 4 pm, the group was in the process of final stretches on the gym floor. Hoshiumi walked over and sat beside Ushijima, who was leaning his entire torso towards his left heel. </p><p> </p><p>“So, when are you headed to Poland?” Hoshiumi chirped head cocked curiously. </p><p> </p><p>“My tryout is in two weeks,” the ace replied bluntly, in mid-stretch. Sakusa, who was stretching a few feet away, cocked his head immediately towards the pair. </p><p> </p><p>“Nice!” Hoshiumi nodded, “It’s going to suck not having you and Kageyama on the team, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing is set in stone, yet,” Ushijima sat up and then rotated to stretch towards the other heel. Sakusa felt his breath hitch. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to visit Paris while you’re there?” Hoshiumi smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I saw where Tendo was starting a new season of his show, there.” </p><p> </p><p>“He did ask if I would stop by for a visit,” Ushijima nodded, “His show doesn’t air until later in the spring, but he’s going to start filming this winter.” </p><p> </p><p>“Good deal,” Hoshiumi chirped, “Well, I’m sure you’ll do great, Ushijima!” He patted the ace’s back as he stood to go rejoin his roommates. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Ushijima replied with a small smile, finishing his stretch.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa frowned, and looked beside him to see his cousin staring at him considerately. “<em> What </em>?” The spiker glowered, to which Komori chuckled, </p><p> </p><p>“Nothing, nothing!” Komori waved his hands dismissively. </p><p> </p><p>Following their stretches, Coach Hibarida debriefed the group while Iwaizumi handed everyone stapled packets. “Iwaizumi-san has organized individualized training regimens for you to keep up with for the next few weeks until our next training camp. I realize you are all located in different locations, so I will leave it to you all to be responsible and practice daily to stay in shape. There are suggestions to work on for prep in the meantime. We are holding you accountable to be proactive and diligent with your practicing.” He smiled, as everyone thumbed through the packets, “As to our next training camp, we will be speaking with the winners of today’s challenge to decide on a few details, but you will be informed within the month with further information.”</p><p> </p><p>“Keep up with this schedule,” Iwaizumi added, “If you have questions, do not hesitate to ask me.” </p><p> </p><p>“You all have done well this week,” Coach Hibarida smiled, “You have made Iwaizumi-san and I proud and excited for our training camps to come. Please, be safe going to your homes and we will be in touch.” </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you!” The team bowed slightly and called out at once. </p><p> </p><p>With the training camp officially concluded, everyone started to pack up their gear and gather their luggage from their rooms. Sakusa, of course, wasted no time and immediately retreated to the shower. There was no way he was traveling beforehand. </p><p> </p><p>As he exited the shower, Ushijima walked past him to take his shower next. Komori was in the process of folding his clothes into his bag. </p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Kageyama?” Sakusa looked around the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Hinata asked him to stop by their room,” Komori answered half-hazard, “Something about sending a selfie to the Karasuno alumni, I think.” </p><p> </p><p>“Hmm,” Sakusa hummed in reply. He glanced back from his suitcase to his cousin, “Did you know Kageyama was leaving the Adlers?”</p><p> </p><p>Komori didn’t look up, “Yeah. He’s been accepted a position on Ali Roma for Italy.” </p><p> </p><p>“Does he know anyone in Italy?” Sakusa questioned.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think so,” Komori shrugged. At that moment, the bathroom door opened and Ushijima walked out of the bathroom, a bit of steam escaping into the room with him. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa cut his eyes back to his suitcase and continued to pack. Ushijima was asking Komori something, but the spiker wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. He snuck a covert glance towards Ushijima as he was speaking to his cousin, the ace nodding and telling Komori something about a leftover charger in the commons area. Sakusa patted the leg of his black joggers and felt his phone sitting heavily in the pocket. </p><p> </p><p>He glanced over to his cousin and the ace, before walking past them, “I’m going to use the restroom before we leave,” the spiker noted, shutting the bathroom door behind him. </p><p> </p><p>The two were still talking outside the door as Sakusa pulled the phone out of his pocket. For a moment, he hesitated. <em> What am I doing? </em>  Sakusa pinched between his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. He could hear the opening of a door and Komori and Ushijima welcoming Kageyama back into the room. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Nothing is set in stone yet.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa punched in his password and went to his text messages. After a search and a quick text, he put the phone back in his pocket and walked out of the restroom. </p><p> </p><p>“Wash your hands?” Komori teased, giving his cousin a smile.</p><p> </p><p>“You ever going to not ask that?” Sakusa rolled his eyes, zipping his suitcase shut. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Team Condor was the first to walk outside the gymnasium, the sun on the verge of setting. </p><p> </p><p>“Have a safe trip back, everyone!” Yaku waved his arm enthusiastically overhead, smiling broadly. His cab was already here to take him to the airport. It was going to be a long trip back to Russia. </p><p> </p><p>“Same to you, Yaku-san!” Hoshiumi grinned, “Ready, Gao?” </p><p> </p><p>“Cab’s going to be here in a minute,” The middle blocker checked his phone. Hyakuzawa waved to both of them,</p><p> </p><p>“See you all soon!” He smiled, walking towards his car, having driven himself to the arena. </p><p> </p><p>Yaku watched his teammates disperse, as he settled into the seat of the taxi. It had been a good week, and he was happy to be back in Japan practicing with his former competitors. </p><p> </p><p><em> I wonder if Lev is back already? </em> He pulled out his phone to let him know he was headed to the airport. <em> He better have fed Azuki... </em></p><p> </p><p>That’s when he spotted the notification of a new text message. Clicking on it, Yaku’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open. </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Kiyoomi Sakusa: </em> </b> <em> Can you call me later?  </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Uhmmm….so….<em>yeah</em>!</p><p> </p><p>I’m glad I was able to get this “Part II” out so soon -- I hate two-parters where you have to wait a while. </p><p> </p><p>Hmmm, so let’s see where this goes, eh?</p><p> </p><p>Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! And thank you so much for the comments and kudos! I really appreciate it!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Stand Virus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa’s always been a “cautious” person...but sometimes, being cautious, means knowing who to trust. </p><p>AKA “The Chapter Where Sakusa Seeks Some Non-Familial Advice”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Morisuke Yaku had reread the text about twenty times between the cab ride and him boarding the plane leaving Tokyo for Russia.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Kiyoomi Sakusa: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Can you call me later? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku had his doubts when Sakusa said there was nothing between him and Ushijima. That embrace on the bridge wasn’t just between two teammates; there had been enough sexual tension to reach across the road and grab his attention, after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Sakusa seemed adamant that he wasn’t pursuing any relationship with the ace...so why was he asking Yaku to talk to him? It was perplexing indeed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glanced at his boarding pass. At least if he talked to both Lev and Sakusa, it would help pass the time. It was a twelve hour flight from Tokyo to Doha. After a two hour layover, it would be another five and a half hours before he was back in Russia. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku sighed; the one disadvantage of living so far away was the flight. As the plane readied for takeoff, he sent one last text to Lev. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yaku: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>I’m about to take off. I’ll call you once we’re clear in the air. Love you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The libero sank his head back into the headrest, his mind the farthest thing from tired as the plane lifted off the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa figured Yaku wouldn’t get back to him for awhile...if at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For one, he knew the libero had an extensive travel schedule to make it back to Russia, and he had no clue how service was at any leg of that journey. He’d never really been out of the country himself. Second, though, he had been rather sour towards Yaku during the camp. He honestly wouldn’t have blamed the libero if he ignored him altogether. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori finally noticed Sakusa’s silence; about an hour into their drive home, he looked over and gave the spiker a concerned glance, “You okay, Kiyoomi-kun? You’ve been quiet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, just thinking,” Sakusa shrugged, looking out the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know?” Komori smiled, trying to make conversation, “This training camp didn’t turn out that bad! You were all worried about being alone with Ushijima, too. But did you die?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa frowned, realizing he still hadn’t told Komori about what happened. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Would Komori use that information to try and stir the pot? Would he confront Ushijima about it? It wasn’t like they were going to see each other for the next few weeks anyway. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I was going to die today,” The spiker finally replied, gathering his courage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? What are you talking about?” Komori chuckled, raising a brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa explained how they were crossing to the bridge over the river, how he swerved to miss the car, and how Ushijima had snagged his shirt and caught him before he could fall over the edge. He conveniently left out the part about them embracing, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?!” Komori yelled incredulously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We were in the middle of the race,” Sakusa shrugged. “I didn’t want to distract you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, feel free to distract in the future!” Komori slapped his forehead, “Now, I feel like a jerk for yelling at you two for being late.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it,” Sakusa sighed, “I’m sure Ushijima didn’t take it personally.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Geez</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Komori gripped the steering wheel harder, exhaling loudly. “Well, hey,” His voice lightened, “Look at it this way; it might have brought you and Ushijima-san closer!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You have no idea,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa thought, before silencing his thoughts; a fierce blush creeping across his face, his neck hot. Komori chuckled, amused at his cousin’s flustered appearance. It was then that Sakusa realized he truly needed to talk to an outside source about this. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The plane had reached its proper altitude and Yaku had contacted Lev to tell him he was on his first leg of the journey home. The plane was barely half capacity, given how large it was and the time of departure -- Yaku had timed it so he would be arriving home late into the night in Russia, but with nothing on his plate for the next morning, he knew he could sleep in. Lev didn’t have an appointment for modeling until the day after, so it would be nice to spend a day catching up on each other’s events with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their conversation lasted over an hour, and as he hung up from his call, he checked his clock. It would have been about 8 pm in Japan at this point. He wondered if it was too late to contact Sakusa, but decided that he could at least text him back to let him know he was available to call. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yaku</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Yes, I’m available now to talk. Just call if you want.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept it short and sweet, thinking that was Sakusa’s style, anyway. Closing his phone, he placed it on his chest, leaning back into the headrest. About a minute later, he felt the phone buzzing in his hand. Pulling it from his chest, he saw the call from the spiker. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, that didn’t take long, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the libero blinked. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi Sakusa had a process when he returned home to his studio apartment from any extended trip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first thing to do was take his luggage to the laundry room and set it beside the washer. After wiping down the kitchen countertops with bleach wipes, he would tidy up anything in the living room area that was out of place, water his bonsai tree that sat on the windowsill by his television, and then go shower. Afterwards, while his hair air-dried, he would start the laundry, wash his hands in the sink, and fix a late snack or meal if he hadn’t eaten on the way home. After eating, he would relax, meditate for half an hour, and then go to bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had just started his laundry when Yaku’s text came through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After washing his hands in the sink and drying them, he wedged the phone in between his ear and shoulder and started rummaging through his refrigerator for something to eat. A few rings in, and a quiet voice came over the line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You certainly don’t waste time calling, Sakusa-san,” Yaku’s airy voice sounded half in awe. The spiker sighed, deciding it was late and to keep things simple; he would just make rice and sauteed mango and tofu to put on it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t have a reason not to go ahead and call,” the spiker pulled a pan out and set it on the oven. There was a moment of silence, as Sakusa wondered what to say next.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m assuming you don’t randomly call people to chit chat,” Yaku chuckled from the other side of the line. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not usually,” Sakusa admitted, “This is quite awkward, if I’m honest.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re telling me,” Yaku agreed, “To tell the truth, I didn’t know what to make from your text at first.” The libero adjusted in his plane seat, “For the record, I didn’t mean to rile you up back at the gym.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t rile me up,” Sakusa frowned, running water over the rice, “It’s just…,” he sighed, “you’re right.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku frowned, looking around him on the plane. Fortunately, most of the passengers were in the front or back and were all spread out, so there was no one near him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why come to me, though? What about your cousin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Motoya loves to antagonize,” Sakusa sighed, “He means well...but...I doubt you would  call Wakatoshi-kun up and try to arrange some demented version of a blind date between the two of us. Motoya would.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wakatoshi-kun</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the libero mused as he crouched down in his seat, leaning against the plane window. “Fair enough. So,” knowing that Sakusa would understand the implication, he asked, “how long?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since my last year of middle school,” Sakusa was surprised how easily he answered, “His team and mine were in the tournament final.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was he as socially ambiguous as he is now?” Yaku couldn’t help but smile as he asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa paused, confused for a moment as he sautéed his mango and tofu, “He isn’t much different, if that’s what you mean.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, it was a bad joke,” Yaku’s smile remained, “He’s just the hardest person to read...you both are, really. Maybe take that mask off once in a while.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not funny,” Sakusa frowned. “Now you’re sounding like Motoya--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Again, sorry.” Yaku paused, doing the math in his head, “Still, though...since middle school. Sakusa, you’ve liked this man for over a </span>
  <em>
    <span>decade</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The realization hit Yaku and he whistled low.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The word </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘decade’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>was a stone to Sakusa’s chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The way Yaku said it</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- “And? So what if I have?” He wished he didn’t sound so defensive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was silence on the other end, as if Yaku was contemplating his answer. Finally, the libero replied softly, delicately, “That’s a long time to like someone...and not tell them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who knows if he feels the same?” Sakusa shrugged off the suggestion, as he set the stovetop temperature back down to simmer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’d rather assume he doesn’t and continue to pine after him hopelessly,” Yaku pondered aloud, “Then admit to him your feelings and risk rejection?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Komori was right...he truly is a cautious man. To a fault.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I always thought he liked someone else,” Sakusa’s mind was filled with images of Ushijima surrounded by his teammates fawning over him: the setter Shirabu flanking his side, asking for advice on the next set; the young rookie spiker Goshiki, following Ushijima like a shadow; the wild-haired Tendo, singing praises into Ushijima’s ear...</span>
  <em>
    <span>daring to call him Wakatoshi-Kun, too</span>
  </em>
  <span>…A creeping, rotting feeling was settling in his stomach; luckily, the libero’s words broke his train of thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Yaku hummed, “But now you don’t know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This has honestly been the first weekend we’ve been around each other off the court,” Sakusa readied his dinner, “We’ve chatted in between games at tournaments in high school, but being on the same team --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--staying in the same room,” Yaku offered timidly, hoping he hadn’t crossed the line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa huffed, rolling his eyes, “Don’t remind me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How was that, by the way?” Yaku smirked, sensing by Sakusa’s reaction he could be a little playful here, “I can tell you that all throughout high school, I couldn’t room with Lev.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Sakusa’s voice perked in interest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no,” Yaku shook his head, “I demanded we room separately. It wasn’t a difficult request, since he was a first year and I was a third year, but I knew if we roomed together, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back from doing...</span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, we didn’t do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Sakusa replied, “So, I guess it didn’t matter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t sound happy about not doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Yaku mused, and he felt Sakusa go silent on the other end of the line. “Can I ask you something, Sakusa-san?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dark-haired spiker could feel the question coming, but there was no point denying it now. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku knew he had to word the rest of this conversation delicately, like raising a handful of grain towards a baby deer, “You don’t have to answer, but have you ever done...anything...with anyone, before?” He quickly followed up with, “There’s no shame if you don’t want to answ--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Sakusa replied bluntly, “I haven’t.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku exhaled, “There’s nothing wrong with that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Sakusa said matter-of-factly, “I don’t know if--”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he hasn’t either,” Yaku smiled, realizing immediately what Sakusa was implying, “I’m certain you two are in the same boat together.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>There is no way Ushijima has been in a relationship...or at least a physical one...I’d bet a million yen on it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then, how do I move forward?” Sakusa was standing next to his kitchen table, phone pressed to his ear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s entirely up to you,” Yaku smiled knowingly, “I will say this: the longer you harbor these feelings and do nothing about them...the worse it’s going to get. Especially being on the same team as him. It may be easy to ignore and shy away from acting on your emotions when you’re standing on opposite sides of the net, but that’s no longer the case.” Yaku’s voice grew serious, “We have half a year until the Olympics. It’s going to be hell if you do nothing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt himself freeze, the libero’s words ice water on his back. “What would you suggest I do, then?” He managed to reply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Again, I’m not you,” Yaku said slowly, “And there’s no tell-tale way of doing this sort of thing. But…” He sighed, “You and Ushijima are surprisingly similar, or at least I think so. Imagine how you would want someone to confess to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>...and perhaps...do something similar for Ushijima.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That sounds absurd</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sakusa instantly thought, but couldn’t muster the courage to tell Yaku that. The man had lent him his ear. “Okay,” He forced himself to say, realizing that his food was starting to get cold. “I need to think about this...but...thank you, Yaku-san.” He added, “I appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The libero laughed and cheerfully responded, “Think nothing of it, Sakusa-san! I’m always happy to lend an ear! If you ever need to talk, I am always here. Don’t hesitate to call me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Sakusa nodded, wished him safe travels, and the two hung up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku placed the phone back in his bag beside him and leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling on the plane. He had been excited about the Olympics and being on the team with members of the “Monster Generation,” but this development had added another layer of intrigue to the entire experience. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sakusa and Ushijima…</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yaku shivered, smiling despite himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk about the blind leading the blind. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku’s suggestion rang in his ears as he took a seat with his food.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa stared at his plate for nearly a minute, before finally taking a bite of his dinner. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The question was...how would he want someone to confess to him? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lights were off in the apartment when Yaku opened the door. Of course, after so many late-night games and trips back home, one gets used to moving around a space in the darkness. Easing his shoes off, he noticed a much larger pair beside his. He chuckled, it was almost comical how much larger Lev’s shoes were than his own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mrrrow!” A fat ginger cat greeted him, running its body along the libero’s leg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Azuki,” Yaku bent down and petted its head, the cat scurrying away afterwards.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The libero then laid his jacket across the back of the couch and rolled his suitcase to the laundry room, leaving it propped against the washing machine. He’d get to it tomorrow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Creaking the door open, he could make out the blanketed silhouette of the model against the pale moonlight filtering through the blinds. His back was to Yaku, who moved past the bedroom to the bath. Luckily, the bathroom door was thick enough that he could take a quick shower without waking Lev up. That had been a selling point of the apartment when they got it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The freshly bathed libero dried his hair and dressed in silk pajamas, pulling the covers back to snuggle under them beside the tall half-Russian. He laid his head against Lev’s shoulder, causing him to stir slightly. As if on instinct, the former ace rolled over, his bare arms immediately enveloping Yaku, who lifted his head to give his lover a kiss at his jawline. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm,” the silver-haired man’s voice rumbled, “You missed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” Yaku teased quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lev, his green eyes now open, glanced down at the libero,“I said you missed,” He grinned, pulling Yaku closer so he could properly kiss him on the lips. After a breath, they parted. “It’s good to have you home.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello Tendo,” Ushijima was halfway through folding his laundry when his phone rang. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wakatoshi-kuuuuun!” Tendo’s singsong voice boomed through the phone. Luckily, Ushijima knew how enthusiastic his best friend could be and had already turned the speaker on, so the phone wasn’t near his ear. “Counting down the days until you hit Poland? I can’t wait to show you these new chocolate molds! How was the first round of Olympic training?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was good,” Ushijima smiled, “Interesting to see us all on the same team.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I bet! How was the monster duo?” Tendo chirped, obviously referring to Kageyama and Hinata.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oddly enough, they didn’t play together as much as I thought. I am sure the coaches will have them working on their quick attack soon enough,” Ushijima noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahh, I see,” Tendo’s voice drawed out the words, “Who did you have to room with?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kageyama, Komori-san, and Sakusa,” Ushijima said bluntly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ooooooh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Tendo whistled, “And how </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa-san?” His voice turned curious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, I suppose,” Ushijima replied simply, but his voice had a shade of defensiveness to it that Tendo immediately picked up on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm, if you say so, Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendo mused, “I figured you’d be excited to room with your high school rival for a whole weekend.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima paused, thinking over the statement. He finally smiled softly, exhaling, “It was an exciting weekend, I suppose.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahh?! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Really</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” Tendo seemed flabbergasted, “Wakatoshi-kun! Tell me all about your weekend! Every detail!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Ushijima’s brow furrowed, “Besides, I need to finish my laundr--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your phone is on speaker, Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendo cut in, “Talk to me while you fold your clothes!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima sighed. Tendo </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>his best friend, and he didn’t often get to talk to him, but he wasn’t sure why the man would want to hear about his weekend in detail. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kiyoomi Sakusa?” Lev raised an eyebrow. The daylight was starting to lighten up the bedroom. The former ace was currently snuggled under the covers, only his head poking out the top. Yaku thought it was hilarious. “Which team did he play for?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The libero sat next to the former ace in bed, propped up on the pillow by his elbows, “He was on Itachiyama’s team...it would have been your first and second years that he played.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm...I don’t remember,” Lev yawned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re honestly the worst at remembering players from other teams, so I’m not surprised,” Yaku sighed with a teasing smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I remember everyone from Karasuno and Fukurodani!” Lev loudly objected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Again, not surprised,” Yaku rolled his eyes playfully, enjoying the pout forming on the silver-haired man’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so mean,” Lev huffed, “Anyway, he likes this other player on your team, Ushijima?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, without a doubt,” Yaku sighed, “And I’m fairly certain Ushijima-san likes him back as well, but they’re both too dense to realize it and it’s honestly both the most adorable and frustrating thing I’ve ever witnessed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lev smirked, moving to sit up in bed as well, the morning sun hitting his bare torso. “And so what? You’re going to play matchmaker?” He raised an eyebrow, “Won’t that cause tension on the team?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to cause even more if someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>do something,” Yaku stretched his arms forward, “You should have seen the two of them on that bridge. I was blushing like a schoolgirl, just watching.” Yaku glanced over to see Lev giving him a sincere smile, “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All those years ago when Kuroo kept calling you the ‘demon senpai’ to your face, he was calling you ‘Yakasa-senpai’ behind your back…,” his smirk deepened, as he took Yaku’s hand and pulled him closer to him, “I’m starting to think he was right to do so.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should call that messy-haired bastard up right now,” Yaku scoffed, but didn’t pull away, “‘Yakasa-senpai;’ how </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>he.” The two were inches from each other, now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what are you going to do?” Lev tilted his head slightly sideways, eyes scanning down over the libero’s face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have some ideas,” Yaku said smoothly, before lifting a hand to cup Lev’s face, “But first...I was too tired last night, but this morning...neither of us have any place to be, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The libero’s free hand was tracing circles on the former ace’s bare chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lev’s smile rivaled the sun filtering in, “I was hoping you’d say that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Lev says, “Yakasa,” it’s a play on Yaku’s name and Okasan, Japanese for “mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I would say Yaku is definitely the “team mom.” ^^</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>HAD </span>
  </em>
  <span>to put in a Lev/Yaku scene in this story -- I hope it wasn’t too much of a distraction. Don’t worry -- we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled Ushijima x Sakusa ridiculousness next chapter! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thank you all for reading! I hope you liked the chapter!</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Coreopsis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yaku does some investigation into Sakusa’s infatuation with Ushijima.</p><p>Sakusa, meanwhile, finds himself seeking advice from yet another highly -- or maybe not -- unlikely  source. </p><p>NOTE: Apologies for taking so long. School finally caught up with me and writer’s block did, too. But, here we are. ^^ I hope you enjoy it!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>One would think that with the few weeks off before their next meet up as a team, that Sakusa would embrace the distance between him and Ushijima. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And true, the first week went well -- Sakusa actively kept up with Iwaizumi’s stringent training plan, frequently talked with Motoya -- who came over several times to run receiving drills -- and Yaku occasionally, though the latter was more to get ideas for practices he and his cousin could do together than actually talk about Ushijima. Sakusa found that Yaku was surprisingly respectful of the spiker’s wish to keep the chat about his crush at a minimum. It was an air of privacy and respect he wished his cousin could uphold as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wonder how Ushijima’s audition with Poland went?” Motoya pondered aloud during one of their practices together. The air of his voice and lofty expression, avoiding Sakusa’s gaze, was a gesture not lost to the spiker. He rolled his eyes as he served the ball towards his cousin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Probably well,” Sakusa replied bluntly. The ball bounced off Komori’s arms, straight above the libero, “Wakatoshi-kun wouldn’t agree to a tryout if he wasn’t going to give it one-hundred percent.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Komori smiled.  “True...shame none of us could be there to cheer him on.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As if we had anyone cheering us on during our auditions,” Sakusa snapped back, realizing quickly what he was implying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You had me!” Komori shot back with faux-offense. “And I heard Hinata just auditioned for Brazil’s team -- Romero and that Argentina setter was there to support him!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hinata would have a squad cheering him on, of course</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sakusa involuntarily thought, before replying, “Apologies -- I hadn’t forgotten...I just...” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Motoya’s face was a small pout, but it quickly melted at his cousin’s trailing words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No need,” Komori offered a reassuring smile, “I didn’t mean to agitate. Come on, let’s get back to practice.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded, but his cousin’s words were not easily shaken from his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was indeed thinking of how Ushijima was doing with his tryout. And a tiny part of him couldn’t deny his wish to be standing on the court, watching the tall brunette spike the ball across the court. He could imagine the cheers and impressed whistles from the stands, similar to how the MSBY Black Jackals reacted to new standouts during auditions; he could see the coaches nodding their heads in unison, making marks on their clipboards. Sakusa could envision the spiker turning towards him, eagle eyes gleaming as a soft smile formed on his face --</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Earth to Kiyoomi-kun!” Sakusa jolted, as his cousin backed away. Motoya had been inches from the spiker’s face, calling his attention. The libero stepped back and raised an eyebrow, “You okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Sakusa replied instantly, shaking off any sense of distraction. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously..</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s barely been a week since the training camp. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Let’s get back to work.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku was stretched out on his couch in Russia, tablet in his lap as he glanced through the giant glass windows of his apartment at the gray skies outside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s your research coming?” Lev came from around the kitchen counter and sat beside Yaku. Even with his legs stretched out, he didn’t quite take up the entire couch. The model set his lover’s legs over his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The libero sighed, “If you can call it research,” He glanced down at the tablet, shaking his head. “You couldn’t have found a more perfectly matched and mismatched pair in all of volleyball, to be honest.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The former ace cocked his head in confusion, “Why do you say that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a love story for the ages,” Yaku stretched his hands over his head. “A pair of volleyball idiots who met in middle school, competing against one another for years in a fierce rivalry through camps, Nationals; various tournaments? The two top aces in the country, secretly harboring feelings towards one another they couldn’t express?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That does sound romantic,” Lev conceded, as Yaku nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And yet,” He placed his head in his palm, “Despite all that time together, the two haven’t had a single intimate moment together...well, unless you count that hug by the bridge during camp.” Yaku wiped a hand down his face, “It’s sooooo frustrating!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Matchmaking’s going to be harder than you thought?” Lev chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exceedingly,” Yaku huffed. “I thought it was bad enough with Kenma and Kuroo...getting these two to share an intimate moment, though? One’s a germaphobe who does the opposite of relish in physical contact and the other probably wouldn’t know a sexual innuendo if you smacked it across his face.” Yaku buried his face in his hands. “Maybe I should just let it go…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lev bit his lip, “Hmm, or maybe,” His green eyes fixated on the libero, “I might have an idea to help you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yaku slowly lifted his head, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, “I don’t know...your plans don’t always lead to great results…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have some faith in me!” The silver-haired model pouted, “Now, tell me a little more about your research so far...”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next training camp was already set a week from now, as Iwaizumi emailed everyone an updated training regimen to get prepared. Sakusa’s wasn’t too varied from what he was doing now, though it involved a few more stretches and lunges to get his legs ready for what he was sure would be exceedingly long receive drills.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s like the worst sense of foreshadowing,” Komori gave a nervous chuckle, as he handed Sakusa the printout of his updated routine. The spiker didn’t have a printer of his own, so he had to visit his cousin’s to get a copy. “I secretly think Iwaizumi-san has a sadistic side to him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>dating that setter from Argentina, isn’t he?” Sakusa replied bluntly, but there was a mischievous edge to his voice. “The way Wakatoshi-kun talks, that seems sadistic in itself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His cousin let out a bark of a laugh, “That’s funny! I’ve never seen Oikawa-san in person, so I wouldn’t know. Maybe we should ask Hinata-san…,” his voice trailed off, as he clicked out of his email. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t sound like something Hinata’s comfortable talking about,” Sakusa folded the training schedule carefully in his hands, his eyes not looking towards his cousin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Komori noted, a slight shift in his tone, “I don’t know; he was pretty vocal about it that night at the training camp. You and Ushijima-san had already left the room, when Kageyama and I went back to clean up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can spare me the details,” Sakusa was in no mood for gossip that morning, especially about Hinata and his possible pseudo-love life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You say that,” Komori wiggled his eyebrows, “Speaking of details, Ushijima-san talking openly about Oikawa to you, hm?” His voice had a teasing edge, “You think our roommates are going to stay the same like last time? You and Ushijima-san seemed to have had some good conversations--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess we’ll find out next week,” Sakusa cut him off, walking towards his duffel bag. “Thanks for printing me this, Motoya; I appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori suddenly spun his head around, “You’re leaving already?! I figured you’d want to stay for lunch…” he sounded dejected, to which Sakusa rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I already have udon waiting on me at my apartment,” the spiker shrugged, pulling his duffel bag across his shoulders and zipping his track jacket up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dinner tomorrow, then? I could meet you for practice beforehand,” Komori offered, eyes pleading.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Sakusa sighed; his cousin was persistent if anything. He caught his cousin beaming at him out of the corner of his eye and just shook his head, glad his mask was covering a slight smile in return as he waved goodbye and closed the apartment door behind him. His cousin had a distinct knack for getting under his skin one minute, and then instantly back in his good graces the next. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smile was short-lived, as he made his way back towards his apartment, reviewing the training regimen he had pulled back out of his jacket pocket. Scanning over and over the routine, his thoughts were not on the drills he needed to run, but instead about seeing Ushijima again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Would they be sharing a room like before? Would Ushijima know if he’d been accepted onto Poland’s team by the time of the training camp? And what if he had been acc--</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was halfway through his thoughts when a hand reached out and gripped his track jacket, “Hey! Whatcha doin’, Omi-kun!?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a second, Kiyoomi was stopped from taking a step forward. A car honked and the spiker realized that, lost in his thoughts, he had almost walked straight into traffic while the light was red. Mind fuzzy, he looked down at the hand grabbing his jacket and then followed the hand to whom it was connected to, though he knew that kansai accent from anywhere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Atsumu,” Sakusa exhaled, “Err-- thank you,” he conceded; making a mental note that he needed to stop thinking about Wakatoshi-kun while walking before he eventually </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>in a head-on collision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yer head in the clouds today, Omi-Kun? Ya nearly walked into traffic.” The blonde Miya twin cocked his head to the side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just...thinking...and,” Sakusa sighed; he really didn’t feel like confiding his secret crush with his teammate. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yaku he trusted to keep things confidential; but Atsumu? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The blonde’s blank, curious expression made him doubt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Too absorbed in Iwaizumi-kun’s training schedule?” Miya gestured towards the paper in Sakusa’s hand. “I printed mine out earlier.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, yes,” Kiyoomi looked away, glad for the alibi, “Just distracted, I guess.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to my brother’s shop for some lunch, if you want to join!” Atsumu threw his thumb out, motioning towards the direction of the local Miya Onigiri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa sighed, shaking his head, “You know I don’t like onigiri that isn’t homemade. Besides,” Sakusa shoved the routine back in his pocket, “I have udon at home.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged forward, the light turning green.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay, Omi-Kun!” Atsumu waved as he walked away, “If I don’t see you before then, see you at practice next week!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew the setter had been harmless in stating the fact to him, but suddenly the idea of the training camp being a week away spurned Sakusa to walk faster, nearly sprinting until he made it back to his apartment, a cold sweat beading on his brow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sweat made him feel grimy, so he took a quick shower and washed up; heating up his udon and laying the bowl at the kitchen table. The sunlight flickering through the window in front of him, Sakusa suddenly realized how...suffocating the silence around him was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a bite of the udon and grimaced. Maybe he should have taken Miya up on his offer; for whatever reason, his lunch tasted extraordinarily bland.</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was rare that anyone made a personal call to Miya Onigiri. Nearly all of the calls were orders for delivery or pickup, but when Osamu answered the phone, he nearly dropped it in surprise. Not because the call wasn’t an order, but because the call wasn’t even for anyone that worked in the shop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s...for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Osamu shot a glare towards his twin, who was halfway through eating his spicy tuna onigiri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why ya giving me that look for?!” Atsumu scoffed, “I don’t tell people to call me through your phone!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s apparently one of your teammates,” Osamu sighed, his half-lidded eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Can I give them your cell? So I can get back to running a business, here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, whatever,” Atsumu glared back, his cheeks stuffed with rice, pouting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not a minute later, the setter’s cell rang and he answered as he gulped down a bite of rice, “Yeah? Ya know we all shared a contact list at the training camp.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” The setter was surprised to hear the Russian libero’s voice on the other end, “but </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>spilled coffee on it the other day and half the contacts are illegible now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the background, Atsumu heard someone yell, “How many times do I have to say I’m</span>
  <em>
    <span> sorry-</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” Yaku’s voice carried on, “I wanted to ask you a favor, Miya-san.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just call me Atsumu,” the setter sighed, propping his cheek on his palm, “And what’s the favor?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s rather personal, so I need you to keep everything I tell you strictly confidential,” Yaku’s voice said evenly. “I assume your brother is with you, so he’ll have to be quiet about this as well.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Osamu actually just walked out to check in a truck with supplies, so it’s just us right now,” Atsumu corrected, looking around the empty restaurant. Osamu always closed shop for an hour to prepare between the lunch and supper crowds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Yaku sighed, “Again. None of this goes beyond this conversation...so, it’s about Sakusa-san…”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Opposite the wall where Sakusa’s futon rested was a work desk, and hanging above the desk, looming over him, was a calendar. Each day marked one more closer to the next training camp, which Sakusa had circled neatly in purple marker. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was only one day left until it was time to travel to the next training camp, this one a bit closer to home in Tokyo. Sakusa was elated; he wouldn’t have to drive far to camp. Had it been up to him, he would have just stayed at home during this training session, though he doubted that would be an option, since it hadn’t been last time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori had teased him the day following him printing out his schedule about Ushijima, but Sakusa just decided to stay withdrawn and not egg his cousin’s antics on. The strategy had proved most effective, until their lunch together earlier that day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ushijima-san made Poland’s team,” Komori noted matter-of-factly as Sakusa was halfway through taking a bite of soba noodles. The spiker nearly choked on his food, as Komori gasped and quickly thrust a glass of water towards him. “Raise your hands above your head, Kiyoomi-kun!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa choked and took a large swig of water, huffing indignantly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I guess I should have waited until you were done,” Komori chuckled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S--so,” the spiker coughed, “So what about him making the team?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His cousin must have caught on to his defensive tone, because he sat back in his seat, hands pressed out in front of him, “I just figured I’d tell you before we got there! I didn’t want you to be the last to know --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And why would that matter?” Sakusa spat, his eyes narrowing at his cousin. “That’s great that he got on the team,” his voice raised as he snapped back, “I’m not surprised in the slightest.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori’s face fell, a small, hollow smile playing across his lips, “Hey, you don’t have to pretend to be cool with--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine with whatever Wakatoshi-kun does,” Sakusa straightened in his seat, eyes seering at his cousin, “You don’t have to say anything else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Komori’s voice was calm and low, “I just know how--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>have to say anything else,” Sakusa gritted his teeth, and without another word, his eyes bore a clear message to his cousin: </span>
  <em>
    <span>This conversation is over.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Komori sighed, looking down at his plate. “I don’t.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of their lunch had been awkward and quiet; Sakusa thanked his cousin for making lunch and excused himself home, his practice bag slung over his shoulder. It was incredibly windy that day, and the bag smacked against his side repeatedly as he walked down the sidewalk towards his apartment, each nudge of his duffel bag a constant reminder of his rude behavior towards his cousin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I was probably too harsh at lunch,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa frowned as he crossed the street, </span>
  <em>
    <span>But Komori should know better… </span>
  </em>
  <span>he suddenly blinked and he grimaced in realization, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why should he know better? What am I saying? Wakatoshi-kun isn’t some ‘off limits’ form of conversation -- why would he be? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa balled his hands into fists at his side. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dammit…,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he pulled out his phone and instantly texted an apology to his cousin:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Sakusa</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Hey. I’m sorry for being weird at lunch. I’ll talk to you later.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not a minute afterwards, his cousin replied that everything was okay and that would work. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sakusa frowned, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Motoya, the saint...never one to hold a grudge.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The spiker opened the apartment door, flopped his duffel bag to the small bench beside his kitchen island, washed his hands, and then proceeded to plop lazily onto his couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do I care that Wakatoshi-Kun is going to play for Poland? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa sighed, glancing out the window, </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not like I see him outside of our scheduled matches...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa laid on his couch for what felt like hours, when there was a sudden knocking at his door. This was unusual, as people rarely visited Sakusa’s apartment, much less uninvited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Omi-kun! Ya home?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Miya?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa sat up with a confused look plastered across his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Omi-Kun? Ya home?!” The twin setter’s voice boomed louder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, hold on!” Sakusa called out, rising to his feet and shuffling across the living room to the kitchen door. He cracked it open, to see Atsumu standing in front of him, holding a bag of Miya Onigiri takeout in one hand and the other raised, as if about to knock again. “What are you doing?” Sakusa raised a brow, questioning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I called,” Atsumu pointed to the spiker’s phone on the kitchen counter, “I was in the area and wanted to know if ya had dinner plans,” He motioned to the bag in his hand, “I brought takeout.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa grabbed his phone and realized he’d placed it on vibrate and must have not heard it while half-napping on the couch. He sighed and turned back towards Atsumu, “My phone volume was down; I didn’t hear it. But you know--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--That you don’t like onigiri made by anyone but yerself,” Atsumu rolled his eyes, taking a step inside, “That’s why I got ya weirdo self a container of udon!” He set the bag on the kitchen counter and went to wash his hands; he’d been to Sakusa’s enough to know the basic rules when visiting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa glanced in the bag and saw, indeed, that the setter had brought a sealed container of udon along with some wrapped up onigiri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If yer not hungry, that’s fine; I can refrigerate mine--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, Sakusa’s stomach let out a large rumble, causing both players to stop and stare. The spiker grimaced; in his anger at his cousin earlier, he had stopped eating the soba noodles...and now, hours later, was legitimately hungry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine.” Sakusa sighed, pinching his brow, “I am a bit hungry, I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ya think?!” Atsumu let out a loud laugh, “I think half the block just heard yer stomach!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just...just shut up. I’ll be right back,” Sakusa exhaled, excusing himself towards the bathroom to wash up as Atsumu chuckled, laying the food out on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu and Sakusa had eaten dinner together a lot over the last few years. Sakusa had been the second-earliest new member to the MSBY Black Jackals, right before Hinata. The only players he knew on the team when he joined were Atsumu from their training camp days together in high school, and Bokuto from their years of facing one another in the Inter High and National tournaments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At first, the three of them had eaten at various restaurants after practice together, but more often than not, Bokuto was off meeting his former teammate and, then-suspected and now-confirmed partner Akaashi, for meals instead. Bokuto always invited Atsumu and Sakusa along with him and his partner, but the two didn’t want to be third and fourth wheels in what was clearly a date for the couple. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Initially, one would think Atsumu and Sakusa had nothing in common. Atsumu was loud, crass, teasing, flirtatious; all things that Sakusa was visibly...not. But what wasn’t so visible to most was what Atsumu was as well: meticulous -- from his styled hair to how he dressed appropriately for any occasion -- and a perfectionist. While he didn’t seem as obsessive in his movements like Sakusa could seem, it was clear that Atsumu took his time and was precise about the atmosphere around him. Him knowing to get Sakusa the udon, or washing his hands without being prompted as soon as he walked in, for example. He could be tiring at times, but over the last few years, Sakusa admitted that he could tolerate his company much more than he thought possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you know about that setter in Argentina?” Atsumu spoke up once Sakusa had finished a bite of udon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oikawa-san?” Sakusa shrugged, “Everyone from Miyagi seemed pretty intimidated by him. Though, I’m not sure why...his team never beat Wakatoshi-kun’s in high school.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmmhmm,” Atsumu nodded, as he chewed a bite of onigiri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you on the Oikawa-san bandwagon?” Sakusa was curious. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Motoya was bringing him up to connect back to Wakatoshi-kun, but why Miya?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, he and Shoyo-kun had a thing back in Rio a few years back,” Atsumu twirled a chopstick in his hand, before using it to pick up a potsticker that rested on a plate between them. “And I don’t know...I was curious what type of guy he was.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s dating Iwaizumi-san, supposedly...who is quite the opposite of Hinata. So, I’m not sure, honestly. His taste in men doesn’t seem consistent. Then again, with a fling, I guess consistency isn’t an issue...” Sakusa tilted his head slightly. “Why does it matter?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s say I was...and this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>hypothetical</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Atsumu waved his hands nervously in front of him. Sakusa raised a brow skeptically, knowing that Miya was one of the worst at hiding anything, especially involving himself emotionally, “Let’s say I was considering--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--Asking Hinata out?” Sakusa dead-panned. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Miya?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t say that!” The setter pouted, “And...what if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>serious?!” He whined, louder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hinata is going to Brazil after the Olympics,” Sakusa frowned. “He signed on with the Brazil Super League.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” The spiker forgot how young Atsumu looked when he was whining. “That’s why I was thinking...what have I got to lose at this point, eh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa straightened in his seat, his eyes widening, “What did you say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hinata’s not going to be on our team anymore,” Atsumu leaned forward, gesturing over the table, “so there won’t be any awkwardness on the team if he says no.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But we’re still on the Olympic team together...” Sakusa shifted in his seat, eying Atsumu skeptically; though it was apparent he was mulling the setter’s words over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what’s stopping me!” Atsumu sat back in his seat as well, seemingly defeated. “I don’t want to make the next six months awkward...what do you think?” He gave Sakusa a serious stare, “Do I have a chance?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt his face heat up, “What kind of question is that? I don’t know,” He hoped he wasn’t blushing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why was Miya asking him for advice?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Hinata doesn’t…,” But then, Sakusa stopped himself and stared at the wall behind Atsumu, a horrific realization dawning upon him. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>God…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t what?” Atsumu tilted his head in confusion. “What?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was going to say that Hinata doesn’t seem to have a type,” the spiker continued, “but...he actually might…,” Sakusa didn’t want to say, but Atsumu pressed, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what would that be?!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t want to answer, but there was no point in delaying it. And Miya was his friend, as much as he may not have wanted to admit it. He halfway cringed as he finally replied, “He likes setters.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You might as well have told Atsumu that Hinata was waiting outside, ready to run off with him to Brazil, the way the setter’s face lit up; his hazel eyes dazzling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>it!” Atsumu beamed, propping his elbow on the table, head in his hands, “So, do you think I should tell him?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s...complicated, Miya,” Sakusa groaned. “There’s a lot of variables to consider...you could tell him, and one of three things could happen. He could accept your proposal and everything could run smoothly for you two. Or, he could reject your proposal and it causes tension for the team. But then, he could also accept your proposal, and then it not work out and create chaos amid the team and --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--You’ve thought an </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful </span>
  </em>
  <span>lot about this, Omi-Kun.” Atsumu interrupted his rambling, which had grown faster as he’d talked, the setter’s face suddenly pensive. Sakusa felt his cheeks warming again, only now he was sure he was blushing, judging by the way the setter’s eyes became saucers. “Omi-kun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Sakusa wanted to bolt, to run away, but of course, that wasn’t an option.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you...do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>like someone on the team?” Atsumu’s eyebrow raised suspiciously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sakusa spat quickly; perhaps too quickly, because Atsumu pounced. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do! Who is it? It’s not Hinata is it? Ya just said --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For the love of -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>! No, it’s…,” Sakusa buried his face in his hands and groaned aloud. For a moment, there was quiet between them. Sakusa finally looked up to find Atsumu staring at him, a teasing smirk playing across his face. The spiker sighed loudly, exhaling and running his hands down his face. “Miya...you have to swear -- s</span>
  <em>
    <span>wear on your life</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- what I’m about to tell you stays between us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The grin on Atsumu’s face was near-blinding, “What are friends for?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa folded his hands on the table and took a breath, “I may...like...Wakatoshi-kun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeeeeeessss, so a transition chapter, but now we’re a reveal with Atsumu...and then...Training Camp, Part Duex! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Uhm, but this time...with more... </span>
  <em>
    <span>tension</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Hm. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hmmmm</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I guess we’ll have to see! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thank you for reading! I hope you’re enjoying the story!</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Snow Crash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Motoya tried to maintain a serious expression. </p><p>But Sakusa resembled a burrito, he was tucked so tightly in his blankets and ivory comforter; it was hard not to laugh at how pitiful his cousin currently appeared. </p><p>“For the record,” Motoya faked off his best glare at the conclusion of his cousin’s account, “Morisuke Yaku and Atsumu Miya are BOTH shoulder devils. I am your only shoulder angel.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Atsumu Miya blinked. “What did you just say, Omi-Omi?” </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Sakusa sat back in his seat, his entire face flaring. </p><p> </p><p>“You like <em> Ushijima </em>?” The setter stared in awe, “Hmm.” He stroked his chin pensively.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that <em> ‘hmm’ </em>for?!” Sakusa snapped, arms crossed at his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, to be honest, I didn’t think ya liked <em> anyone </em>.” Atsumu tilted his head slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Why would you think that?” The spiker frowned, then his eyes widened in realization, “You can’t be that--”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, ya never even made a pass at me,” Atsumu cut him off, arms gesturing dismissively at his side, but his eyes had a flirtatious gleam to them, “And after all my good flirting, what was I supposed to thin--”</p><p> </p><p>Atsumu barely had time to duck beneath the table as Sakusa reached back and hurled a pillow from the couch towards him. </p><p> </p><p>“I shouldn’t have told you anything!” Sakusa was instantly regretting revealing this information to Atsumu, but the setter waved his arms apologetically,</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry! I’m <em> sorry </em>, Omi-Omi!” </p><p> </p><p>A silence fell between them, Atsumu holding back a chuckle as he leaned down to pick the pillow off the ground and Sakusa sitting back in his seat, arms crossed even tighter, if it was possible.</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t matter either way,” Sakusa finally broke the quiet between them. </p><p> </p><p>The setter raised a brow, “Why would you think that?” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s like you said,” Sakusa huffed, “We’re on the Olympic team together the next six months...it <em> would </em>be awkward if I confessed and he didn’t feel the same way.”</p><p> </p><p> Sakusa didn’t want to admit it, but he’d replayed that moment in his head over and over again since middle school -- that moment where he finally told someone his feelings, stripped away and revealed the better part of his soul; only to have that person to refuse them -- slamming his soul away and shattering it across the pavement beneath him. </p><p> </p><p>“But how do you <em> know </em>he doesn’t feel the same way?” The setter pressed, leaning forward. </p><p> </p><p>“I suppose it’s the same with you and Hinata,” Sakusa admitted, “How <em> do </em>you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“I <em> have </em>a hunch, but,” Atsumu gave a weak smile, “I was hoping you’d have some insight into that...since we were teammates and all.” </p><p> </p><p>“Hinata likes <em> everyone </em> ,” Sakusa sighed, rolling his eyes, “I don’t think there’s one person on the entire volleyball circuit he couldn’t be friends with…,” He noticed how Atsumu’s face fell slightly at that, so he added, “But attraction...like <em> that… </em>is different. That’s harder to tell.” He turned back to his soup, unsure what else to say. </p><p>“Well, I can tell Ushijima likes ya,” Atsumu blurted matter-of-factly, and Sakusa nearly choked on a bite of udon. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Eh </em>?!” Sakusa sputtered.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, Ushijima’s constantly looking at you,” Atsumu shrugged, “All during training week -- in the lunch line, during practice, that night in Hoshi-kun’s room--”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Ushijima’s constantly looking at you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>You might as well have tossed a grenade into his lap. </p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about!?” Sakusa spouted, face reddening, “<em> How--why--what </em> were you doing noticing all that?!” He was half out of his seat now, hands splayed across the dining table. </p><p> </p><p>“I tend to ‘people watch’ a lot,” Atsumu replied bluntly, seemingly unaffected by Sakusa’s sputtering rant, “I mean a <em> lot </em>. Samu nearly killed me once ‘cause I could tell he was about to break up with his girlfriend and I told her on accident that day at lunch--” </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Miya </em>,” Sakusa glared, trying to steer him back to the topic at hand.</p><p> </p><p>“I just like watching people, so over the years, ya just pick up on things.” He sighed, his hand cradling his cheek almost dreamily, “Well, except you, Omi-kun. You’re harder -- you’re either really closed off or over-dramatic with everything.” </p><p> </p><p>“I am <em> not </em>over-dramatic!” Sakusa countered, but his lips curled into a pout that had Atsumu laughing.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, okay, <em> sure </em> Omi-kun! Whatever you say,” His eyes gleamed, “But Ushijima’s easier to read. He doesn’t pay attention to hardly anyone except the coach when he’s talking to us, to Hoshiumi and Kageyama -- his teammates -- or to <em> you </em>.” He emphasized the last word, pointing at the spiker. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa felt the air leave his lungs. He sat down, exhaling as he plopped into the seat, trying to process everything the setter was telling him.</p><p> </p><p>Atsumu smirked, “You and I are more alike than you think, Omi-kun,” He mused, twiddling a chopstick between his fingers, “We could help each other out, ya think?”</p><p>The spiker cautiously eyed Miya. On the one hand, it would be mutually beneficial for them both to work together, especially considering they had a common “goal.” On the other, which nagged at Sakusa with incessant tugging to his gut, dragging Atsumu as yet another inside the circle who knew about his infatuation with Wakatoshi-kun wasn’t exactly ideal. He had been fine with Yaku knowing, but Atsumu? <em> Why did I tell him? </em>Sakusa groaned internally. </p><p> </p><p>“I can see yer cautious as usual,” Atsumu broke the silence, “but let’s help each other out. If you put in some good words with Shoyo-kun, I can do the same with Ushi-kun.”</p><p> </p><p>The dark-haired spiker grimaced, “I’ll only consider your proposal if you promise to <em> never </em>call him that again.” His face fell, “but...I’m not sure either of us are the ideal person to talk to either Hinata or Wakatoshi-kun.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are ya talkin’ about!?” Atsumu laughed and leaned back, “You know Shoyo-kun just as well as anyone on our team, and Ushijima,” he paused to let Sakusa know he was using the more proper nomenclature, “won’t suspect anything with me stokin’ the fire!”</p><p> </p><p>“Why wouldn’t he suspect you? We play on the same pro team,” Sakusa crossed his arms at his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think he’d consider <em> you’d </em> ever ask <em> me </em>for help?” Atsumu offered.</p><p> </p><p>Silence fell between them. <em> No </em> , Sakusa instantly thought, <em> that prospect would never cross the ace’s mind. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Gee, thanks fer the vote of confidence, there,” Atsumu pouted, visibly annoyed that Sakusa had taken him <em> so </em>seriously. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine.” The spiker sighed, “We’ll help each other.” </p><p> </p><p>“Perfect! Now let me see yer phone!” Atsumu hopped out of his chair and ran along the kitchen counter to swipe the cellular device off its edge.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait! Miya, what are you <em> doing </em>!?” Sakusa jumped out of his seat and raced to catch Atsumu, who was already running the other way, his fingers tapping away at the screen. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It was later that evening when Sakusa’s cousin received the call. </p><p> </p><p>The libero threw on a coat and rushed out the door. From the sound of Sakusa’s distraught voice, it was an emergency. Luckily, Sakusa’s apartment was unlocked as Komori raced through the door to his cousin’s bedroom, where he learned the full account of Atsumu Miya’s actions.</p><p> </p><p>The setter had texted Ushijima. From Sakusa’s phone. </p><p> </p><p>It had been a short text, simple enough:</p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Sakusa: </em> </b> <em> Are you excited for our upcoming training camp? </em></p><p> </p><p>To which, as Atsumu danced around Sakusa and ducked away from the spiker’s reach; running out of the apartment as Ushijima replied: </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Wakatoshi: </em> </b> <em> Yes, I am ready to see everyone and get back to training as a team. You? </em></p><p> </p><p>By this point, Sakusa had chased Atsumu down the hall, tackling him near the stairwell. But it wasn’t before Atsumu could sneak in the text: </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Sakusa</em> </b> <em> : I am excited for us to train together as well. Maybe we can go out for dinner one night after practice together? Just the two of us? </em></p><p> </p><p>The dark haired spiker screamed at the phone screen, causing one of the neighbors to poke their head out into the hallway to make sure no one was dying. By the time Atsumu and Sakusa had thoroughly apologized to the other tenants and made their way back to the apartment, Ushijima had sent his reply: </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Wakatoshi</em> </b> <em> : That would be fine with me. You can pick the restaurant to go to and the evening, depending on what our days are like during training.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Sakusa had slammed the door in Atsumu’s face the moment he snatched the phone away at his apartment door. The setter called out from the other side, “You better tell him ‘okay’ and don’t wait too long to text back! Remember your promisssssse, Omi-kun! Think about what you want to say to Shoyo-kun for me!” </p><p> </p><p>After that, a tenant asked him to quiet down, and Miya took his leave. Sakusa miserably stared at his phone and typed out a quick reply to Ushijima’s text:</p><p><b> <em>Sakusa</em> </b> <em> : Sounds great! See you next week! </em></p><p> </p><p>Ushijima hadn’t replied back and Sakusa had retreated to his bedroom in misery. He then called Komori to beg him to come over and help him, explaining his conversation with Yaku about Ushijima and subsequently Atsumu. </p><p> </p><p>Throughout the story, Motoya tried to maintain a serious expression. </p><p> </p><p>But Sakusa resembled a burrito, he was tucked so tightly in his blankets and ivory comforter; it was hard not to laugh at how pitiful his cousin currently appeared. </p><p> </p><p>“For the record,” Motoya faked off his best glare at the conclusion of his cousin’s account, “Morisuke Yaku and Atsumu Miya are BOTH shoulder devils. <em> I </em> am your only shoulder angel.” </p><p> </p><p>“What do I <em> do </em>?” Sakusa peeked his head out from the covers, his face distraught. </p><p> </p><p>“About the texts?” The libero cocked his head to the side, confused. “Nothing. You go out to eat one night with Ushijima-san.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa groaned and buried himself under the comforter, “The text said just the two of us, though! That’s basically a date, Motoya!” </p><p> </p><p>“Well, yeah, but isn’t that what you eventually wanted?” Komori replied with a small smile, his brows furrowed in confusion. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s too soon,” Sakusa groaned, “If he thinks it’s a date, I’ll have to confess to him,” he huffed, “and if he doesn’t think it’s a date, then he will just associate me as a friend and nothing more!” </p><p> </p><p>“I doubt it’s that simple,” his cousin tried to comfort him, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting what he assumed was Sakusa’s knee. “If you’re worried about being alone with him, you could always get me and someone to go with you….or maybe Atsumu and Hinata could double-da---” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa’s head flew up from under the comforter, “Don’t you <em> dare </em>suggest I ask that weasel and his ginger-headed counterpart to dine with me. Ever. Again.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, as awful as it was for Atsumu to take your own phone and do that,” Komori waved his hand dismissively, “You may end up one day thanking him, if this works out--”</p><p> </p><p>“It will be a cold day in hell before I thank that slimeball,” Sakusa retreated back under the covers. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, at this rate, you have two options: You either find a way to make your dinner with him next week work, and act like a normal human being,” Komori shrugged, “Or you admit to him that Atsumu did it and you didn’t mean it.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa’s eyes peeked back over the covers, “That second option sounds worse.” </p><p> </p><p>His cousin nodded, eyes darkened. “The second option would definitely hurt Ushijima-san’s feelings.” </p><p> </p><p>“I hate this,” Sakusa pulled the cover to reveal his face lying against the pillow. “I wanted Atsumu to help me get closer to Wakatoshi-kun, but this is too much. Too fast. I feel like I’m being hurdled through the air like a meteor towards him.” </p><p> </p><p>Komori smiled slowly, and patted Sakusa’s knee from above the covers. “I know. There’s no control for you in this situation...but this can work in your favor. We’ll work out a plan to make it all work out! Trust me!” And the libero’s face lifted into a soft grin.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa managed to nod weakly, “Okay. Thank you, Motoya.” </p><p> </p><p>“What are cousins and shoulder angels for?” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE: </b>
</p><p> </p><p>I meant to get us to the training camp this chapter, but this seemed like a good place to stop for now!</p><p> </p><p>The semester will be wrapping up soon with school, so hopefully I’ll have some more chapters out then for you all!</p><p> </p><p>I hope you liked this one...this training camp should be interesting this time around! </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Descolada</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa reunites with the “Control Room” and plans for something he never anticipated at a Pro Volleyball training camp: a date.</p><p>But not before some impromptu flirting. Yes, you heard right!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yaku could have slapped him. “Seriously? </span>
  <em>
    <span>That </span>
  </em>
  <span>was your best idea?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ya weren’t there,” Atsumu defended himself over the phone, as he packed the remaining clothes for the training camp, “I was goin’ in circles with him! I had to do something to move things along.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised he hasn’t called me already,” Yaku frowned, “Then again, he might have figured out we’re working together on this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if he has, it’s not ‘cause of me,” Atsumu grumbled, “I didn’t say a word ‘bout ya.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The libero stared out his window. It would be time to head to the airport soon. “Well, hopefully neither of them get cold feet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I doubt Ushijima will,” Atsumu snapped his suitcase shut, “And Omi-kun’ll be too embarrassed to back out, knowing he’ll have to admit the whole story if he does.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Still</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yaku sighed, while things were finally escalating in his matchmaking plans, he wasn’t sure if he liked this sudden trajectory. There was a chaotic energy surrounding Atsumu Miya that Yaku wished he’d paid more attention to earlier...he wasn’t sure if he liked the notion of adding “chaos” to an already volatile Kiyoomi Sakusa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“True,” Yaku mused, “in any case...this should be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>interesting week.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Olympic committee had bought out a series of hotel rooms for the group to stay in during the week. The hotel was within walking distance of the gym, and Coach Hibarida asked everyone to get checked in and then come over  for the first debriefing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi and Sakusa were the first to arrive in their rooms. Sakusa glanced around, there were two single beds and a fold-out couch. He glanced skeptically towards Komori.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told the coach we could take the fold-out couch,” He smiled, patting Sakusa’s shoulder. The spiker grimaced, but his cousin continued, “It’ll be like old times when I used to stay over at your house!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I made you sleep on the floor,” Sakusa dead-panned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well now, we’re adults, so no floor sleeping!” Komori countered, still smiling, but more mischievously. “I heard everyone else’s room is set up the same, so we’re not the only ones...I heard Aran and Miya-san were going to share--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that moment, the hotel door swung open and Tobio Kageyama joined them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Have a nice trip?” Komori beamed. Sakusa nodded towards the setter as his libero cousin began quizzing him on his stay with his older sister. “Kiyoomi-kun has an older sister that lives in this area, too!” He noted, pointing at the spiker, who frowned in reply. “But she’s a lot older and has a family of her own, now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told her I was not sharing a room with her snot-eating offspring,” Sakusa jeered, eyes narrowing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say that! Your nephews are adorable!” Komori flew a smirk towards his cousin before turning his head back to Kageyama to hear about his sister and her new salon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had tuned the two of them out, his mind focused solely on carefully re-folding his clothing for the week. He had almost got lost in the task of re-assembling his space for camp, when his cousin’s voice jarred him out of his monotonous peace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Kiyoomi-kun!” Komori waved a hand in front of the spiker’s face, snapping his attention towards the libero. “Kageyama and I are going to go ahead to the gym. Meet us there in a few?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa wanted to tell them to wait, and he’d follow them down, but he still had to organize his toiletries and make sure the bathroom was cleaned. “Sure,” He replied weakly, watching as his cousin trotted off, chattering away to the setter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As their voices died down, Sakusa could feel the atmosphere calm to silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In this moment, he felt a wave of peace wash over him. Without the noise surrounding him, he found he could organize quicker and more efficiently. He finished arranging his luggage for the week and moved to the bathroom. He organized his supplies, and started giving the shower a quick once-over, making sure it was to his standards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt calm in this moment, with everything making up his surrounding environment in order. Straightening to his full height, Sakusa surveyed the bathroom with a satisfied smile, and decided he should head towards the gym to meet up with Kageyama and Komori. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment he stepped outside the bathroom, he nearly had the air knocked from his lungs as he found himself face-to-face with a shirtless Wakatoshi Ushijima. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite </span>
  </em>
  <span>shirtless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The former Shiratorizawa ace was standing in front of one of the beds, changing out of his traveling clothes into what he was going to wear to the gym. His long-sleeve shirt was up over his head, revealing to Kiyoomi the entirety of his sculpted abdomen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The entirety of their last camp, Ushijima had changed in the bathroom after showering or before bed, so it was the first time Sakusa had seen his roommate with his torso fully on display. Ushijima had not skipped Ab day. At all. Kiyoomi felt his face flare up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without a moment’s hesitation, Sakusa flung himself back into the bathroom and slammed the door, nearly crashing into the toilet behind him. “AH!” </span>
  <em>
    <span>You idiot!</span>
  </em>
  <span> He added, cursing at himself.<br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa?” Ushijima’s voice echoed through the door. “Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes!” Kiyoomi tried to regain a shred of composure. “Just -- just tripped and fell.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tripped over what, you dumbass?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>The spiker gripped his hair in frustration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” There was a surprised bluntness to Ushijima’s voice, “And you’re sure you’re fine?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, I’m not fine at all. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Yes, I’m good,” Sakusa swung the door back open, having risen to his feet. He adjusted his shirt and glanced back towards the ace. “You surprised me, that’s all.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Apologies,” Ushijima frowned, “I didn’t realize anyone else was in here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just getting all of my things arranged,” Sakusa motioned towards the bathroom and then shifted his gaze back to Ushijima. There was a sudden thickness in the air between them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is it because of the texts?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa pondered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is he expecting me to bring it up? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Ushijima was silent, as he finished changing into his volleyball shoes. Sakusa motioned towards the couch, trying to find something to talk about to clear the tension in the air -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Ahh, Komori and I are going to take the couch.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Smooth</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “It folds out -- I wasn’t sure if Kageyma or anyone told you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima glanced down at it, “I see; I was wondering who would be the odd man out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa stared at him. It took him a moment before he realized that it was a joke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ushijima was joking with him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Oh!” The spiker let out a small laugh, half in disbelief, “Yeah, that would have been weird...only room for three of us.” He chuckled, despite himself, glancing between the three beds. “Of course,” Sakusa blurted out with a raised eyebrow, emboldened by the sudden breathing room amid the tension, “What makes you think you’d be getting one of the beds if that was the case?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Suddenly, there was silence, with Ushijima staring at Sakusa, wide-eyed. The spiker flew a hand towards his mouth, realizing what he’d just said. </span><em><span>What are you saying?!</span></em> <em><span>Cover; cover! </span></em><span> “Ahh, I--,” </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Ushijima’s mouth curled into a small smile, and his eyebrows drew forward, seeming serious despite the smile. “What makes you think I wouldn’t?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa stared, a deer in the headlights; he felt on fire, from the tips of his toes to his eyebrows. Wakatoshi Ushijima had just thrown Sakusa’s half-teasing comment right back at him, with that small smile and challenging brows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The reality suddenly dawned on Sakusa: </span>
  <em>
    <span>He is flirting with you!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s mouth opened as he tried desperately to think of a response, when his phone buzzed loudly in the pocket of his track shorts. The vibration nearly sent the spiker off his feet with a jolt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He quickly pressed the phone to his ear, both thankful and disappointed at the distraction, “Hello?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>you?!” It was his cousin, “They’re calling everyone to the debriefing!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dam--” Sakusa stopped himself, realizing Ushijima was now curiously staring at him, “We’ll be right there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, who’s w--” Komori started, but Sakusa hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re about to start debriefing at the gym,” Sakusa explained, and Ushijima nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready to go?” He noted, eyes locked onto Kiyoomi’s, gave a soft exhale at the contact. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. You?”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two had briskly made their way to the gym. There was a nagging worry that they would be there too late, and the entire gym would see him and Ushijima -- together -- walking in late. Sakusa’s cheeks grew hot. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The last thing I want is more attention towards the two of us...especially if…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want to run the rest of the way there?” Sakusa turned to ask the ace as they stepped outside the hotel into the cool breeze. “So we’re not late?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima seemed to mull over his words for a second, before nodding, “It would be a good warmup.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt his shoulders lighten, his face lifting at Ushijima’s agreement, as the two took off in a sprint towards the gymnasium. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily, by the time they made it inside the gym, they noticed they weren’t the last ones coming in. Hyakuzawa and Hinata were making small talk down the hall, coming out of the restroom, the latter bobbing up and down talking about a match -- Sakusa very much remembered --  against the Red Falcons from a few months prior. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll have to ask Aran-san about that spike that smacked Atsumu in the face!” Hinata laughed, then waved towards Sakusa, who sighed and waved back haphazardly, his breathing slowing from the run. Luckily, they hadn’t worked up much of a sweat in the cold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He and Ushijima followed behind Hyakuzawa and Hinata into the gym. Everyone was gathering towards the center, and Sakusa quickly felt eyes boring into him -- it didn’t take him long to spot his cousin from the crowd; sitting beside Kageyama and throwing Sakusa the most egregious of suspicious stares. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dark-haired spiker, coolly as he could, slid to sit beside Komori and gave a quick nod to Kageyama, avoiding his cousin’s stare. Kageyama was saying something to Ushijima, but Sakusa couldn’t pay attention, because his phone was suddenly buzzing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Motoya</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Care to elaborate?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa gave a dry, huff of a laugh. At least his cousin was tactful enough not to directly ask, with Ushijima sitting right beside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Sakusa</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: We were talking when you called. Lost track of time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Motoya:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Talking. Sure. Why do you look out of breath, then?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Sakusa</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: We ran over here because we thought we were late. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Motoya</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>: Sure. Sure. So….did you decide on your date? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not yet,” Sakusa replied out loud, putting his phone away and giving his cousin a serious </span>
  <em>
    <span>let’s-not-talk-about-that-now </span>
  </em>
  <span>stare. Komori, getting the message, sighed and shook his head, but didn’t press further. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coach Hibarida made his welcome statement as Sakusa let out a sigh, his eyes glancing around at the gym full of volleyball players. It did feel good to be back together as a team. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day had been one of solid warm ups, getting back in the groove as a team with some serve and receive drills, a quick lunch (Wherein Bokuto and Aran got into an argument over who would be the #4 and #5 spiker back in high school), and then more drilling on receiving led by the two libero players of the team.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a fast-paced day, and Sakusa hadn’t quite found any moment to talk to Ushijima one-on-one about their agreed upon “dinner together.” Occasionally, he would glance over towards his cousin, who was making imploring gestures with his eyes, his chin jutting towards the former ace as if to say, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Go make your move</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” but Sakusa just couldn’t commit to it. Not with practice and everyone around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a final receive drill led by Yaku, who had been eying Sakusa just as suspiciously as his cousin, Coach Hibarida clapped his hands and offered his final talk of the day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since we are in Tokyo, you all are free to go out in the evenings and have some free time to bond as a team; just be sure to be here every morning this week by 7 am, sharp. We will have a good breakfast and then start our training for the day.” Everyone agreed to his offer in unison and the team was dismissed for the evening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each team was placed on “cleanup” duty for the gym in a rotation for the week. Team “Control” had the first night, leaving the four players to re-organize everything for the next day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands gloved and sanitizer in hand, Sakusa started to clean off the bleachers as he tried to motivate himself to confront Ushijima. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is the perfect time</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sakusa mused, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone else is gone and Motoya can distract Kageyama</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He glanced over towards the former ace, who was pushing a cart to gather the scattered volleyballs from their last drill. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You might as well just go out tonight and get it over with...then you can spend the rest of the week without worrying about it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa hurried and sprayed and wiped down the bleachers; he wanted to make sure they were disinfected, of course, but he felt himself moving quicker than usual with the action -- a sudden tug inside him. His movements were anxious, as if anticipating...something. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was it asking Ushijima? Talking to him in general? The prospect of the date...no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, The dark haired spiker shook his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Quit calling it a date. Don’t let yourself think tha--</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Omi-kuuuun?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s voice slithered around Sakusa’s shoulder, and he flinched, nearly jumping off the bleacher as he spun to see Miya standing at the base of the bleachers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never seen you clean so fast, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu grinned slyly, and Sakusa considered throwing the bottle of disinfectant at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was juuuust talking to Ushijima over there,” He motioned towards the tall ace, who was pushing a now-full cart of volleyballs towards the corner of the gym, “and he said you all hadn’t decided on where to go eat yet, tonight.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Sakusa frowned, “I was getting ready to ask him about that dinner you set me up for.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The setter blinked, “Wha--what?” A bark of a laugh escaped his lips, “What, Omi-Kun?!” He laughed loudly, and Sakusa had to punch his  arm to shush him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just shut it, Miya!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Omiiiii,” Atsumu shook his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval, “You can’t just take Ushijima out on your date first-thing! Where’s the build up in that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is no build up! That’s the point--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have to ease into these things, Omi-kun,” Atsumu interrupted, his voice silky. “Geez, Omi-Kun,” He sighed, “It’s a good thing I’m here, you know that?”<br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was clearly missing something, because something wasn’t registering. “Wait, what did you d--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Kiyoomi-kun!” His cousin called from across the gym, as he, Kageyama, Hinata, and Ushijima walked towards them. “Are you about done, there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t like where this was heading, as he quickly made a head-count of those present, “Yes, I’m basically done. I just need to put this up and wash up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good!” Atsumu was all smiles, “Because I told Hinata about this </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing </span>
  </em>
  <span>sushi restaurant in town and he suggested we get ol’ Team Control to dine with us!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dark-haired spiker inhaled loudly, glancing around. Hinata had a radiant </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t-that-sound-awesome</span>
  </em>
  <span> grin, Kageyama looked indifferent, Motoya was wearing an embarrassed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I-didn’t-know-what-to-do-forgive-me </span>
  </em>
  <span>frown, and Ushijima…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa froze. Ushijima’s face looked...apologetic? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. That wasn’t it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why would he be apologizing? No, it wasn’t desperate, but there was something off about his expression. His eyes were almost smoldering, but not with anger or hurt...there was something unreadable about his gaze, but it was almost begging</span>
  </em>
  <span>...begging Sakusa to give some specific answer to the request Hinata was offering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well?” Hinata blinked, and Sakusa was thrown back in reality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Eh? Sorry, I…” The dark-haired spiker suddenly felt all of their eyes on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re in?” Hinata repeated, seemingly oblivious through his bright smile. “Team Control joining Atsumu and I for some sushi? It’ll be fun!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, erm, sure,” Sakusa replied weakly with a quick nod.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awesome!” The orange-haired man leapt away from the bleachers, “Let’s meet back at the hotel lobby in half an hour!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you want to go ahead and use the bathroom to wash off, you can,” Motoya offered with a meek smile, his eyes clearly stating, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry about your dinner date being ruined</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa shrugged, “That works for me,” walking off the bleachers as the four started towards the hotel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu and Hinata were already out of the gym and headed back. Sakusa, for a split second, caught Kageyama’s glance at the two of them, before Ushijima’s words stole him away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa,” it took Kiyoomi a moment to realize that Ushijima was behind him, toting his duffel bag. The dark-haired spiker backed up a few steps to walk alongside him. “I am sorry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“<em>Eh</em>?” The spiker’s eyes widened. He suddenly realized that Motoya and shuffled Kageyama on ahead, babbling about something to do with the receive drills they completed today, and Sakusa realized his cousin was giving him </span>
  <em>
    <span>space </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk with Ushijima. He'd have to thank him later. “What are you talking about?” He finally added in reply, walking in step with the former ace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miya and Hinata approached Kageyama and Komori about dinner first, and then asked if I would join as well, and I didn’t want to be rude.” Ushijima said stoically. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right….and?” Sakusa raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From your reply to Hinata, I thought you had intended tonight to be the night we went to dine, just ourselves.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nearly stopped in his tracks, his feet losing their feeling for a split second. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He knew. He realized in the moment…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh...ah...it’s fine,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Think of something else to saaaay! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa screamed internally; then, gathering his courage, added, “We...have all week to do that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a beat, and Kiyoomi glanced up to see a small glint in Ushijima’s eyes. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but it made the spiker’s heart rate increase dramatically. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fair point,” was all Ushijima replied, as they neared the hotel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was faint, the tiniest of gestures, but Sakusa noticed in that moment the slightest turn of Ushijima’s lips into a smile as he spoke. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE: </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh ho ho <em>ho</em>, So…. next chapter, what do we call this? A double date? Triple Date? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Sakusa has no clue yet, but.... It’s the start of <em>something</em>! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thanks for reading! I hope you liked the chapter!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finals are upon us and my work is getting turned in, so hopefully more time to write! </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Stripes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Team Control and half of Team Chaos go out for sushi<br/>Is it a date? A double date? A triple date?</p><p>Sakusa’s not sure of much at this point.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sushi restaurant Osamu had recommended Atsumu take them to was only a short walk from the hotel. The setter’s brother and the former Inarizaki captain Kita had been there a few months ago, and apparently raved about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As much as I hate to admit it, Samu knows good food,” Atsumu sighed as they walked in a group towards the restaurant, his breath silky white wisps evaporating in the evening sky. “And Kita wouldn’t let us go anywhere that wasn’t up to his standards,” which apparently were pretty high.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi had only met Kita once, during a MSBY after-match get-together, and he had instantly resonated with the former captain’s mature, perfectly hygienic soul. He trusted that if Kita Shinsuke approved, it was a quality establishment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, the curly-haired spiker internally groaned, if only there was some high quality advice on what to do about the tall, toned former ace of Shiratorizawa keeping in step alongside him. Sakusa glanced over to gaze at Ushijima’s face; they were practically the same height, maybe Sakusa was a few millimeters taller. In any case, the security lights cast a faint glow over the ace’s face, in his perfect view; and every now and then, Sakusa would find his fingers slowly magnetized towards the other’s. Of course, as soon as they were close to touching, something jolted Sakusa back to reality and he retreated his hand away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What are you thinking?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Sakusa chided himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>What are you going to do? Reach out and grab Wakatoshi’s hand? In front of everyone? Don’t be a moron. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Samu said the fatty tuna roll is heavenly,” Atsumu was still talking about the restaurant, as Hinata bobbed and weaved beside him, asking him what Osamu recommended from the menu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Sakusa’s eyes flitted over towards Kageyama and Komori. The setter was glancing at Hinata, his eyes scanning over the orange-haired man as if studying him. Sakusa had guessed for a long time that Kageyama  liked Hinata, and the two had history; it was especially noticeable after their matches. The two would ramble on and argue about random things for the longest time before each team’s coach would tell them to go back and change so they could load up and leave. Their chemistry on and off the court was clearly  noticeable, even to a by-stander.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So why, then? Why was Kageyama not making a move to furthering his relationship with Hinata?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa eyed Atsumu, who was nudging Hinata playfully with his elbow, </span>
  <em>
    <span>And was Atsumu aware of Kageyama’s feelings? </span>
  </em>
  <span>His eyes darted between the setters, Kageyama had clearly noticed the gesture of Atsumu’s, but his attention was now being drawn away by Sakusa’s cousin, who was asking him a question, seemingly oblivious to the war waging between the two setters over the orange-haired man between them. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s head snapped over to find a pair of hazel eyes glancing at him questionably. “You look troubled,” Ushijima noted matter-of-factly, but his eyebrows were furrowed ever-so-slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s nothing,” Sakusa shrugged, “Just had something on my mind.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see,” Ushijima didn’t sound convinced, but his tone --thankfully -- suggested he wasn’t going to pry any further. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The group entered  the restaurant and Atsumu got them a booth to sit at; it was then that Sakusa suddenly noticed the seating arrangement. Ushijima was about to walk into the booth, when the dark-haired man stopped him, a hand landing involuntarily at his chest. Sakusa could feel the warmth beneath Ushijima’s shirt at the touch, but he tried to not let it distract him. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hey,” the spiker, quickly retreating his hand away before his emotions stirred any further, motioned to his cousin, “Let Motoya and I in first, and you can have the outside.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Komori scooted to the end of the booth, Kageyama across from him, and Sakusa slid beside him, leaving a spot for Ushijima to his left. Hinata sat directly in front of Sakusa and Atsumu took the outside spot on the opposite side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The former ace blinked as Sakusa slid into the booth, leaving a space for him, his face unreadable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he finally sat down, though, Ushijima leaned in closer to where only Sakusa could hear him say in a low, deep breath against his ear, “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa gulped air and did the best he could to nod politely, but he was sure his face was aflame. “N-no problem whatsoever,” He stumbled out. Luckily, everyone else was too absorbed in the menu to notice the tiny exchange. Sakusa nearly clutched his chest, the feeling of a firework exploding in his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He decided to tuck that memory, Ushijima’s whisper against his cheek, away for later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chatter between the six ranged from what they expected of this week to what everyone had been doing prior. Eventually, the conversation shifted towards Ushijima.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” Atsumu pressed a fist to his cheek, glancing over playfully at the hazel-eyed man, “How were tryouts in Poland?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima shrugged, “They went well.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Think you’ll be offered a spot?” Atsumu prodded with a cheshire cat grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dark-haired man tilted his head slightly, “I already have been. They offered me a position to play Opposite.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The table stared for a moment in silence at the ace, and then erupted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations!” Hinata cheered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice!” Atsumu smiled broad; Kageyama nodded simultaneously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s wonderful, Ushijima-san!” Komori leaned over the table to congratulate, but Sakusa felt his cousin’s eyes on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why shouldn’t he congratulate him? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa thought instantly. There was no reason not to, yet in the pit of his stomach, a sense of dread stirred. He pushed it aside for the moment, though.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations,” Sakusa turned his head towards Ushijima, and offered him a small smile. He didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere surrounding them. This was meant to be a happy moment for the ace, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’s eyes widened slightly at Sakusa’s words, before his mouth formed a simple smile. It was rare for the ace to offer a genuine smile like this, and so as he scanned their booth, Sakusa made a point to soak up this memory as well, and file it away.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Ushijima nodded back curtly. “I am fortunate for the opportunity.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya know,” Atsumu smirked, sighing a laugh, “Ya don’t have to be so formal all the time. It’s just us; we’re your teammates, so you can be a little more laid back about everything.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima tilted his head, his face furrowing in confusion, “How else am I expected to give thanks?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez,” Atsumu sighed, a hand slapping his forehead. “Yer hopeless.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re just happy for you,” Komori interrupted, still leaning over to see Ushijima past Sakusa. “That’s an incredible offer.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s only an hour and a half flight from Italy to Poland,” Kageyama noted as their sushi arrived at the table. “I’ve heard some of the European teams host training exhibitions; maybe we’ll meet up there.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Komori nodded vigorously, as Ushijima gave the setter a small smile, “That would be good. I haven’t learned much Polish yet, so it will be an adjustment living in another country.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know any other languages?” Komori inquired as they dove into their meal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fluent in English, from my father working in America,” Ushijima noted simply. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata gave a jovial laugh, glancing between Kageyama and Ushijima, “I can’t wait for you two to learn Polish and Italian! You’ll have to teach me, too!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What, idiot,” Kageyama’s eyes narrowed, “so you can boast that you know </span>
  <em>
    <span>six </span>
  </em>
  <span>languages?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Six?” Atsumu nearly dropped a piece of his fatty tuna roll. “You speak four already?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep!” Hinata beamed at the blonde setter, “Japanese, English, Portuguese, and I learned some Spanish from Oikawa-san while I visited him in Argentina,” Hinata added, his smile growing a bit softer at that last part. Sakusa noted how Kageyama’s eyes seemed to narrow even more, his mouth stretching thin. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never met this Oikawa-san,” Atsumu swallowed a bite, “But ya hold him in high regard, Shoyo-kun.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s amazing! You two would really get along, I think!” Hinata perked up in his seat, and proceeded to tell Atsumu another story about their beach volleyball shenanigans, “And his teammates weren’t familiar with beach rules, so then…” as he carried on, Ushijima seemed to be half-listening to the story, but Kageyama seemed hard-pressed to not listen any further.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you planning to stay in Japan’s V League?” Kageyama suddenly turned to Komori and Sakusa, the latter caught off guard by his immediate shift in conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ahh, I’ve talked with Yaku-san about branching out to the foreign leagues,” Komori admitted with a slight blush to his cheek, “But it’s scary, you know? Leaving the country and moving somewhere completely new? I’m not sure I’m ready for that leap, yet.” He brushed the back of his head sheepishly. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you, Sakusa-san?” Kageyama motioned towards the spiker, who suddenly felt not only the setter and his cousin’s eyes on him, but Ushijima’s too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t thought about it,” Sakusa answered, perhaps a little too quickly, as the three stared in anticipation for him to continue with his answer. “I’m...comfortable where I’m at,” he added, shifting in his seat slightly, feeling anything but.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we talking about, now?” Atsumu leaned over, breaking into the conversation. “What’s Omi-Omi comfortable about?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Kageyama-san asked if Sakusa or I were interested in the foreign leagues,” Komori replied, before Sakusa could answer. “What about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Atsumu-san?” The libero added, steering the conversation away from his cousin. Sakusa knew his cousin enough to realize this was intentional. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Atsumu flipped his hair and rolled his eyes, “I’ve never thought about playing overseas, but I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He glanced flirtatiously towards Hinata, “Shoyo-kun, what do you think? Think Sao Paolo would have me?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” Hinata beamed, “They’d love you, there!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blonde setter gave a hearty laugh and Komori questioned Hinata about his new team. Kageyama kept his eyes on Hinata, but the orange-haired man was currently having his attention drawn by the other setter, who was currently trying to regurgitate Portuguese phrases Hinata fed him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t know how Atsumu did it. He was flirting so naturally with Hinata, drawing the tangerine man’s attention and retaining it through his conversation and gestures. The spiker felt truly sorry for the setter on the other side of Hinata; Kageyama looked more and more miserable the longer the dinner went on. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, Komori seemed to be trying to cheer the setter up, testing him with Italian phrases to see how much he knew.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>These two pairs converse so easily, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa lamented</span>
  <em>
    <span>, and yet -- Oh. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It suddenly occurred that this entire time, while he was being baited into conversation by Kageyama and Atsumu, that Ushijima had been quietly stewing by himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The odd man out, he suddenly felt an urge towards making conversation with Ushijima, who was quietly finishing his sushi beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>What do I say, though?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He felt his stomach tie into knots. Sakusa hated small talk. He didn’t know how these others made it work -- talking about seemingly nothing and yet everything important. He hated wasting time on chit-chat, yet here he was, trying to initiate it with his crush.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so awful at this,” Sakusa whispered with a frown. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you awful at?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt the hazel eyes gazing at him, and froze. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You idiot -- why did you say it out loud?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>The curly-haired man felt sweat accumulating on his brow. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There was no point in lying</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought with a groan, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just tell him -- </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Small talk,” Sakusa replied weakly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Ushijima nodded, “I understand. I’m not one for it, either.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt his tensed shoulders relax slightly. “I just don’t see the point in talking about random, nonsensical things for the sake of conversing,” He replied. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Usually people just ask me about volleyball,” the ace’s hazel eyes met with Sakusa’s. There was a slight sadness there. “Aside from Tendo, that is.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa fought the swell of jealousy and decided instead to follow Atsumu’s advice and treat Ushijima in the way he would want to be treated in this situation. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good that you have a friend like that.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima stared at Sakusa for a moment, his eyes widening in slight surprise. “The same is true for you and your cousin, I suppose.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa glanced back towards Komori, who was now mediating an Italian vs Portuguese “pronunciation-off” between Kageyama and Hinata, with Atsumu watching raptly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Sakusa turned back to Ushijima, “I’ve been lucky enough to have you and him in my life.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a beat and then the words Sakusa had just said hit him. He’d just admitted that he counted Ushijima on the same level as his cousin...as someone he...</span>
  <em>
    <span>cared</span>
  </em>
  <span> about. Sakusa’s felt his cheeks flare.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Was it okay to admit that? Did Wakatoshi-kun interpret it as that? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima, in response though, simply melted into a small, closed-lipped smile. “Indeed. I’ve always considered myself fortunate enough to know you as well over these years.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two stared at each other for what could have been seconds, could have been minutes. The realization washed over Sakusa that not only did Ushijima realize they’d been in each other’s lives for years, since possibly their first encounter in middle school, but that he recognized Sakusa as someone he was happy was in his life. Something valued. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, we’re going to pay!” Komori nudged Sakusa’s arm, breaking him from their locked eye contact. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The curly-haired spiker nodded, as Ushijima moved to exit the booth. As he crawled out, Sakusa glanced over and saw the blonde setter locking eyes with him, his brow raised in suspicion and the most smug of smirks dancing across his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing exactly what he was hinting at, Sakusa elbowed him ahead of him, “Shut up.” He snarled, as Atsumu let out a soft chuckle in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Despite their full stomachs, the air was bitter and cold as they walked back to the hotel. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kageyama and Hinata were arguing about whose team was going to win whatever challenge was given to them tomorrow, as Atsumu and Komori kept in step behind the pair, shaking their heads at their banter. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few steps back, Sakusa and Ushijima were in lock-step side-by-side, each seemingly content in their silence. The winter wind picked up, and Sakusa felt the bite of it as he tensed his shoulders; wishing he’d worn a heavier coat. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima side-stepped behind him and moved to the other side of him, Sakusa staring in confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“To help block the cold,” Ushijima reasoned casually. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The dark-haired spiker blinked, staring in appreciation at the ace’s stoic, but calm expression. No one had ever really offered him any sort of gesture like that, as simple as it was.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span> He thought of what to respond with, then flitted his eyes away.  “Thank you,” He settled on. He decided to add, as coolly as possible, “We’re nearly the same height, though…,” He dared a smile towards the ace, “But I appreciate the gesture.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’s face broke into a small smile, “Perhaps you can bring a heavier coat tomorrow night,” his eyes glinted, daring. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa blinked, realization blooming across his features. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Our “date</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” “You want to go out tomorrow night, then?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If your schedule permits,” The ace’s face was stoic, but his eyes danced in the streetlights. This subtle flirting was going to be the death of Sakusa. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He tilted his head against the winter wind, the breeze blowing back his dark curls. He was going to file this moment away as well:  he and Ushijima walking side-by-side back to the hotel, their breaths disappearing into the night chill in thin wisps. A smile played across his lips, indulging in the moment, “I think there’s a spot open for you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE: </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the release of a few promotional art pieces by Furudate, to celebrate the release of the new Illustrated Artbook for</span>
  <em>
    <span> Haikyuu!!</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’ve noticed there’s been more love and fanart for Komori. Yay! I love his character, so I’m glad he’s getting more recognition...he definitely has a part to play in this story, so I’m glad more people are noticing him!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Ushijima and Sakusa slowly realizing that maybe, just maaaaaybe, the other thinks there's something more between them? Hmmmm?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anyway, next chapter: Forget these other four fools. Sakusa and Ushijima go out to eat...alone...it's a date! Right? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thanks for reading!</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Purity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa and Ushijima go out to eat...to a nice restaurant...alone.<br/>But it’s not a date.<br/>Nope.<br/>No way.<br/>Surely not.</p><p>Or that’s what Sakusa has convinced himself of so far.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Still full from dinner, Team Control bid Hinata and Atsumu farewell and retreated to their own room for the remainder of the evening. Komori folded out the couch into a bed, as conversation flitted around the four; no one completely dedicated to retiring just yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa found himself constantly glancing towards Ushijima.  Their banter coming back to the hotel had made him feel lighter and...he couldn’t honestly remember the last time he’d actually... </span>
  <em>
    <span>flirted </span>
  </em>
  <span>with </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was an odd feeling. But there was something about the quick trading of words between him and the former Shiratorizawa ace that made his stomach flutter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Occasionally, he noticed Ushijima’s eyes scan his direction, though he remained silent. There it was again, that look in the ace’s stare, holding something back. Finally, everyone settled into their beds; after a few ‘goodnights,’ Kageyama shifted and turned the light at the nightstand off. The winter moonlight filtered into the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From where Sakusa slept beside his cousin, he could see the pale glow hitting the top of Ushijima’s hair. The spiker shifted to his side, drawing his eyes away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tomorrow, Wakatoshi-kun and I will be dining...with just each other…</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sakusa’s throat was dry. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For the first time, it will be just the two of us</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He curled his toes and his skin tingled. It was an odd sensation that the spiker couldn’t quite place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a bad or uncomfortable feeling...just...new. </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re joking, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day was a blur for Sakusa -- most of the day had been various pickup games, mix matching with other players. The dark-haired spiker had found himself on the same team as Hyakuzawa, Hoshiumi, and Kageyama; none of his opposing teams had Ushijima as a player, though, which was probably for the better. However, his “going through the motions” attitude was not lost on his cousin, who instantly cornered Sakusa before lunch near the water fountain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Sakusa screwed the lid back on his water thermos. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You -- you who has been bugging me for over half a </span>
  <em>
    <span>decade </span>
  </em>
  <span>about having time one-on-one with Ushijima-san,” his cousin pointed a finger at him, “-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>having second thoughts about going out with him?” Komori’s eyebrow was raised suspiciously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just...what if the team questions why the two of us went out alone?” Sakusa stared at his thermos, ashamed of his flimsy excuse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who cares? If anyone wonders, they’ll just think you went to get food together. It’s not odd -- Hoshiumi, Yaku, and Gao went out last night together and no one thought they were having a threesome--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s enough,” Sakusa cut him off with a scowl, wanting to burn that mental image away. “I’m just…,” He glanced away, “I don’t know, nervous.” The spiker felt his cheeks burn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a beat and then Komori sighed, though it was seemingly out of relief more than anything. “Kiyoomi-kun,” his cousin’s soft voice drew Sakusa’s attention back towards him, “you are the most persistent person I know. You made me practice with you one afternoon until you had tackled 100 receives in a row. You should channel that energy towards your date tonight!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not a date.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “What good is persistence going to serve me?” Sakusa cocked his head to the side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wha--? Because you surely want…,” Komori stopped and stared at his cousin, then his face melted into a knowing smile, “...you know, nevermind.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? What were you going to say?” Sakusa demanded, as he noticed Hinata bouncing towards them to get a drink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not important right now,” Komori shuffled his cousin back towards the gym, waving at Hinata as he walked past, “You’ll figure it out. Just be yourself, Kiyoomi-kun.” He flashed a grin up at his cousin, “And you’ll have a great time with Ushijima-san.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa stared down at his cousin, stifling a groan. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Easy for you to say...</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hours later, Sakusa found himself standing in a hotel bathroom, examining his hair for the umpteenth time. He always liked his curly hair; it was low maintenance, and as long as he kept it trim, never fussy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His outfit had been another story. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu had convinced him to bring his outfits to Team Chaos’s room to decide on what to wear. Bokuto and Hinata were still downstairs doing extra spiking and blocking  practices with Gao, Hyakuzawa, Kageyama, and Komori. Aran had left for dinner already with Yaku and Hoshiumi. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to go eat with Shoyo-kun and Bo-kun after this,” Atsumu answered Sakusa’s question of what he was doing while glancing through the outfits Sakusa had laid out over a series of towels because, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t trust what you’ve done on that bed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as the spiker had put it. “Jeeezzzz,” Atsumu sighed, a hand sliding down his cheek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Sakusa snapped, poking his head around the bathroom door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yer outfits are just…,” Atsumu glanced back at him hesitantly, “Casual.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re at a volleyball training camp,” Sakusa dead-panned, “What was I supposed to bring? A suit?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, no, it’s just,” Atsumu held up a black hoodie with gold trim around the sleeves, “This is the dressiest thing you brought?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like we’re going to a five-star restaurant,” Sakusa grumbled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know that,” Atsumu fired back. “Is Ushijima picking the restaurant?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa hesitated; they hadn’t really discussed it. Atsumu wagged his eyebrows knowingly at the spiker’s lack of response. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He sighed and glanced back at the bed, “Well, I guess we’ll just have to pick the nicest things here and roll with it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi settled on the gold-trimmed hoodie and a nice pair of dark jeans. It had been that or jog pants, and Atsumu shook his head violently at the notion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to take ya shopping sometime,” Atsumu noted, as Sakusa eyed himself one more time in the mirror. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As if I need your help picking out clothes,” The curly-haired spiker eyed him with a sneer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I always look great for any occasion,” Atsumu flipped his pale blonde hair, “I would lone you something of mine, but I’m not sure your lanky self would look right in it,” He teased Sakusa and gave him a brief elbow, jumping out of the way to avoid Sakusa’s angry swipe at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get away, you!” He huffed and adjusted his hoodie. He glanced at Atsumu and then mumbled, “Whatever. Thanks.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyes danced, “What was that, Omi-omi?” He pressed a hand to his ear, leaning forward, “I couldn’t quite hear--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa shoved the closed suitcase of clothes into Atsumu’s stomach, knocking the air out of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” He said sharply, “Just...can you return these to my room after we leave? Here’s Komori’s copy of the room key; you can lay it on the nightstand,” he shoved the card into Atsumu’s hand and then turned to leave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu, still catching his breath, looked up and slowly lifted a thumbs up to the spiker, “Good luuuuuck, Omi-Omiiii,” He teased. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa gave a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tsk!</span>
  </em>
  <span> And slammed the door behind him, but as he walked down the hall back towards his own room, he felt his stomach knotting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was going to need all the luck he could get. </span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa unlocked his hotel room door and as he stepped into the room, he froze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima was tying a dark gray scar into a knot in front of him. He had on a black sweater and gray slacks that matched his scarf; his wool coat slung over his arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked elegant; leaps and bounds more dressed for the occasion than Sakusa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Ushijima caught Sakusa staring and the curly-hair spiker stuttered, “Y-you look nice, Wakatoshi-kun.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hmm,” Ushijima gave him a quick glance over, “Thank you. Is it not appropriate for tonight?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! No,” Sakusa looked away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn you, Miya</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was suddenly regretting turning down Atsumu’s request to go shopping. “I’m the one who should have brought something--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look fine,” Ushijima cut him off, his eyes focused on Sakusa. “I can change if you--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay,” it was Sakusa’s turn to interrupt, and the two shared a moment of awkward silence. “Did you have any place in mind to go?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It turns out Ushijima did have places in mind. Most of them were recommended from Satori Tendo, much to Sakusa’s chagrin. However, the spiker swallowed his pride and merely nodded his head as the former Shiratorizaawa ace listed off his suggestions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Satori did a special for his show,” Ushijima noted, looking down at his phone as they walked away from the hotel. “He said Tokyo Kappou was a good choice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa, unfamiliar, merely nodded, “Sounds fine to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Okay, hold on,” Ushijima started dialing on his phone, “I’ll get a cab to pick us up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, what?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Uhm,” Sakusa suddenly felt his throat seize with panic, his voice elevating a pitch, “Wait, we don’t have to go to the trouble of --” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” a pair of hazel eyes stared stoically back at him, “I offered the restaurant as an option; I can pay for the cab fare.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Who was Sakusa to argue that?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later, a car was shifting towards them. Ushijima opened the cab door and motioned for Sakusa to get in, before joining after him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa naturally didn’t like cabs because it was someone else’s vehicle, and he had no clue who had been in it before himself. Not to mention, he had been on too many fares in the past when his cousin, or a teammate had been car sick or drunk, and he’d experienced the unpleasant sight of them throwing up inside. Luckily, this car didn’t have a sickly sweet odor to it of carpet cleaner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>concerned with was the claustrophobic tension of being stuck in the vehicle sharing an awkward silence with Ushijima. The two professional volleyball players were large enough that even in the back seat of the car, their shoulders grazed. Throughout the thankfully short ride, Sakusa could feel Ushijima’s eyes on him, but every time he turned to meet the spiker’s stare, he’d turned to look forward or out the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your cousin would be cursing you right now for not doing anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sakusa reasoned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Sakusa spoke up, drawing the ace’s attention, “for paying for the cab.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima nodded, “You’re welcome,” as the cab reached the restaurant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tokyo Kappou was cozy. There was a warming amber glow inside, but the atmosphere wasn’t too stuffy or fancy. It was casual enough that Sakusa didn’t feel too underdressed for the occasion. The pair slid into a booth facing one another. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tendo said they incorporate French styles of cooking here,” Ushijima noted as they stared at the menu, “He was using this place for a television special he did a while back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Still a chef in France?” Sakusa mused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Ushijima nodded, “He came to Poland to visit while I was at tryouts there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. Of course he did</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sakusa frowned, feeling a slight sting of jealousy. He wasn’t going to let it ruin the evening, though. “That’s good that you had someone there to support you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glanced up and saw Ushijima staring at him, his expression mostly unreadable, save for a slightly cloudy look passing over his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Ushijima replied, “It was -- we’ve been friends for a long time. He’s always offered support if I needed it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t make a scene. You’re overthinking. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I’m glad,” Sakusa tried to sound cheerful, and reign in the bitterness sitting on his tongue. He decided to change the subject to the menu, “What are you thinking of getting?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima settled on roasted black beef, while Sakusa stuck with duck in red wine sauce. He was thankful that the ace didn’t order a drink or pressure him to get one as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you normally drink out with your team?” Sakusa asked him after their order had been placed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not usually,” Ushijima shrugged, “I’ve never had a penchant for alcohol, and usually end up driving my teammates home if we go out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have a license?” Sakusa blurted incredulously. Ushijima nodded. “And a car?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I drove a lot during high school,” Ushijima noted nonchalantly. “I was always sent on errands to get things for the team before away games.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa sat back in his seat, “That’s nice of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t drink, either?” Ushijima tilted his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes,” Sakusa was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>about to tell him about last year’s New Year’s party, where he was conned into a drinking game with Meian and Miya that resulted in the latter singing drunken karaoke on Inunaki’s couch with only slacks and a tie on. “But I’ve never craved or needed it.” He added, “We’re professional athletes after all...probably best to stay in top shape, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima nodded, “My father would agree.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He launched into a story his father had told him about an American volleyball player who had to play a match hungover. Sakusa questioned Ushijima about his father’s career and the conversation flowed into topics of their families and their professions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any siblings?” Ushijima questioned as their food arrived.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa told him about his older siblings, “But they’re so much older than me, they have their own families now. I don’t see them much.” He glanced at his plate, “Aside from Motoya being around, I felt like an only child most of my life.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima could relate. The two seemed to have similar family structures, in that there was a lot of distance between the pair and their parents, and a more traditional, conservative upbringing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At some point during the dinner, the ace’s knee bumped against the inside of Sakusa’s. It shouldn’t have been a surprise; after all, they were players well over six feet tall fitting into a booth meant for smaller people. The move sent a jolt up his leg, nonetheless. Sakusa looked up, dark eyes connecting with hazel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neither of them, mouths full, said a word. But as their eyes met, there was a silent acknowledgement of the gesture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure what compelled him in that moment; maybe it was the ace’s eyes seeming to glint in the orange glow of the restaurant, or the comfortable atmosphere that had slowly developed between them, but something compelled Sakusa to be bold. He moved his knee and instead of grazing it, settled it against Ushijima’s under the table. And didn’t move it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, the hazel eyes stayed on Sakusa, and the spiker feared he’d over-stepped, that he’d made a move that wasn’t welcomed. Yet, to his surprise, Ushijima did nothing. The two spent the rest of dinner talking about volleyball, family, and Ushijima’s Polish tryouts. Sakusa never moved his knee throughout the whole conversation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Adlers spiker hailed a cab back to the hotel. The cold air nipped at their cheeks as they stood on the corner, waiting from the cab. Ushijima stepped closer to Sakusa, blocking the wind as it blew over the spiker’s broad shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa adjusted the mask on his face, “That restaurant was great.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima nodded, “I agree; I enjoyed it as well,” a beat, “We’ll have to go back sometime.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The curly-haired spiker’s eyes widened, realizing the implications of the words. He knew that Ushijima couldn’t see through the mask, but he couldn’t help the small smile his lips formed, “Yeah, I would like that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cab ride back to the hotel was quiet, but instead of an awkward silence, a comfortable calm had spread between them. Their shoulders still touched, but there was no longer a sense of hesitancy. As they rounded the last corner, Sakusa could have sworn that Ushijima’s fingers raked across the outside of his thigh. He was so nervous, though, he didn’t dare look down to confirm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima paid the cab fare as Sakusa crossed his arms and pulled his jacket around him tighter. The air was getting more frigid; in the end, he was glad they’d driven to the restaurant then tried to walk it. The last thing he wanted was to get ill during an Olympic training camp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time seemed to speed up, and in their haste to get out of the cold, it seemed like no time before they’d reached the hotel room. Sakusa paused outside the door, the key in his hand. He turned to face Ushijima,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had a good time this evening.” His eyes scanned the ace’s face, searching for his response.<br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’s mouth melted into a small smile, and he took a step closer to Sakusa. The curly-haired spiker felt the air suddenly thicken around them. “I did as well. Perhaps later this week we could --” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! They’re back!!” The hotel door flew open and Hinata’s wide smile greeted the two of them. “Did you eat anywhere good?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa resisted the urge to slam the door back in the orange-haired man’s face. “Yes,” he sighed, shuffling past the spiker. Hinata turned and started questioning Ushijima instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori and Kageyama were sitting on the couch, while Atsumu was sprawled out on Ushijima’s bed, Bokuto sitting on the edge. “Oh ho <em>ho</em>,” the blonde setter crooned, “you missed a good onigiri, Omi-Omi.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know I hate onigiri, so I doubt it,” Sakusa stated bluntly, still grumpy that his conversation with Ushijima had been cut short. <em>What was Ushijima about to do? Was he...?</em> Sakusa's brow furrowed. <em>No, surely not...</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori eyed his cousin, “I take it you ate somewhere good?” His eyebrow  was raised slightly, a second question behind his stare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ushijima picked it, so obviously,” Sakusa offered with a shrug, but Komori’s eyes glinted, taking the hint. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a knock at the door, and behind Ushijima and Hinata, Aran ushered his way into the room. “Hey, Iwaizumi-san texted that he wants us to be up and have breakfast done by seven-thirty tomorrow -- we’re doing some extra drills, so we need to be up earlier than normal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Annnnd that’s our cue,” Atsumu stretched his arms above his head and hopped off the bed, Bokuto following suit. The pair along with Hinata waved good night to the room and took their leave. “You’ll have to tell us all about that restaurant, Omi-Omiiii,” Atsumu teased as he was ushered out of the room by Bokuto. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa shook his head and gathered his things to shower, shooting his cousin a </span>
  <em>
    <span>you-said-they-wouldn’t-think-it-was-a-date</span>
  </em>
  <span> look as he walked by. Motoya comically shrugged his shoulders in reply. “Don't look so glum,” his cousin offered quietly with a half-smile, gaining only a scoff from Sakusa as the door shut behind him. </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori stirred around 1 am, his body urging him to go to the restroom. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Probably should have stuck with the small bubble tea</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he mused as he quietly shuffled off the couch bed, trying his hardest not to wake Sakusa next to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he washed his hands in the bathroom sink, he realized there was a phone sitting on the ledge above the faucet. It was pitch black with a plain casing. Out of curiosity, Komori tapped the screen and the phone lit up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lock screen was a picture of Ushijima and, who Komori assumed was, his father standing near the ocean. A text message notification took up the center of the screen: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Satori Tendo: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>And you didn’t kiss him?! You shouldn’t have waited unt….</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The message cut off, needing to be unlocked to read the rest. Komori took a step away from the phone, his hand immediately retreating to his side. Eyes wide, he stared at the phone and then quickly glanced towards Ushijima’s bed. The ace was asleep with his back to Komori.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do I put the phone on his nightstand? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The libero thought in a panic, then caught his breath, </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. No, he’ll know someone moved the phone and probably saw the text, then. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori settled back into bed, determined to get up first so he could let Ushijima know he’d left his phone in the bathroom. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering how he would sleep with his whole body electrified with adrenaline. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kiyoomi...Kiyoomi, you have to know…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE: </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This chapter took me longer to write than I wanted to, but I’m glad I finally got it finished! I wanted to keep everyone as in-character as possible, so I hope that came across well! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah. So. Now there’s another layer to the plot for Operation: UshiSaku! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Hopefully the next one will be out soon! Thanks for reading!</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Plague of Insomnia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I debated making a Chapter 16.5, but decided to just add the first part to Chapter 17. So, here we are. A wild Tendo appears! And...poor Komori. </p><p>That’s all I’ll say for now. Enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, and Tendo couldn’t remember the last time he’d sprinted that quickly to reach it. He slid across the tile floor, nearly slipping and missing the counter completely. He grasped the edge of the kitchen island and hoisted himself up, feeling a cramp in his calf as he did. <em> Going to need to stretch that out, later </em>, he groaned to himself, frantically reaching for his phone. </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Wakatoshi-Kun</em> </b> <em> : I just returned to the room.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Tendo shook his head with a smile. He had asked the ace to text him as soon as his dinner with Sakusa was over. Ushijima was his best friend, but -- <em> heaven help him </em> -- his texting could be to-the-extreme blunt. He chuckled and replied back, </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Tendo</em> </b> <em> : Oooooh! Did you have a good dinner?? </em></p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Wakatoshi-Kun:</em> </b> <em> Your pick was very nice, thank you for suggesting it.  </em></p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Tendo</em> </b> <em> : I’m assuming Sakusa enjoyed it, too, then? </em></p><p> </p><p>There was a pause, and it seemed Ushijima was typing his response. Tendo knew he had to approach the subject as if hand-feeding a baby deer. Ushijima was honest to a fault, and often aloof to subtleties in social situations, but he wasn’t dumb. Far from it, and the redhead knew if he didn’t word things appropriately, the Ace would bolt from the subject. The phone finally pinged a response.</p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Wakatoshi-Kun</em> </b> <em> : It was enjoyable. We had a lot to talk about.  </em></p><p> </p><p><em> Playing things close to the vest are we? </em>Tendo thought coyly as he licked his upper lip and typed a furious response, </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Tendo</em> </b> <em> : You two are pretty similar, so I’m not surprised.  </em></p><p> </p><p>The former middle blocker hesitated, but curiosity won him over and he couldn’t resist: </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Tendo: </em> </b> <em> So, how did the evening end?  </em></p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Wakatoshi-Kun: </em> </b> <em> We took a cab back to the hotel and walked to the room. He said he had a good time, and then Hinata opened the door and interrupted me. There was a group gathered in our room. That was it.  </em></p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Tendo</em> </b> <em> : Oh, gotcha.  </em></p><p> </p><p>But then Tendo re-read the text, his eyes settling on the tiny detail: <em> and interrupted me. </em> He read it again, his eyes widening. </p><p> </p><p><em> Interrupted what? Interrupted…Oh. OH! </em> Tendo gripped his phone.</p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Tendo</em> </b> <em> : And you didn’t kiss him?! You shouldn’t have waited until you were back in the hotel room. Wakatoshi-kunnnnnnn!! </em></p><p> </p><p>But Ushijima didn’t answer. The redhead guessed he’d fallen asleep before his last text, because it wasn’t until the following morning when Tendo’s phone pinged. Stretching his hand from beneath the covers, he wrapped his fingers around the phone and brought it towards him. </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Wakatoshi-Kun</em> </b> <em> : It’s fine. The week isn’t over, yet.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Tendo threw his head back against the pillow, his body shaking with laughter. <em> Ooooh, Wakatoshi-kun </em> , the redhead sighed, throwing his arm over his face as his laughter subsided. <em> You never fail to surprise me. </em> His smile deepened. <em>  I hope Sakusa’s ready </em>. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Komori looked in misery. </p><p> </p><p>He had hardly slept, constantly waking up to make sure he was the first to get to the bathroom and then let Ushijima know about the phone left behind. Finally, at about a quarter till six, he stirred and went to the bathroom after noticing Ushijima starting to rise from bed. Komori made sure to take his time and then handed the phone to Ushijima as the former ace made his way to the bathroom. </p><p> </p><p>“Here, I think this is yours?” Komori tilted his head, trying hard to look oblivious. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, thank you,” Ushijima nodded and took the phone, tucking it into his sweatpants pocket without looking at it. </p><p> </p><p>The libero sighed, his eyes drooping at the anticlimactic exchange. He had run himself ragged all night, worried Kageyama, or worse -- Sakusa -- would discover the phone before Ushijima and see the text Tendo had sent. </p><p> </p><p><em> But then </em> , Komori mused as they were walking to the main lobby for breakfast, <em> that means Ushijima...he does like Kiyoomi...at least, more than just friends.  </em></p><p> </p><p>The cousin struggled with what to do with this information, though. There was so much of him that wanted to tell Sakusa, that his years of pining weren’t misplaced; that the feeling was, if anything, mutual. <em>Kiyoomi</em>.<em>..if only you knew… </em></p><p> </p><p>But he couldn’t tell him. </p><p> </p><p>There was a nagging sensation tugging at his gut. Komori noticed how Ushijima had been texting on the way to breakfast that morning, before putting the phone away. <em> Maybe he was texting Tendo-san, maybe not. Either way, he had seen the text about kissing Kiyoomi that was sent. Meaning the idea was at least...there. </em>Komori took a deep breath.</p><p> </p><p><em> Let it play out </em>. It would be a disservice to Sakusa if he acted too boldly too soon, and ruined the chance for whatever was going to happen to occur naturally.</p><p> </p><p>“They said we’re playing two-on-two today,” Kageyama interrupted between bites, “With us having to split our rooms in half for the teams.” </p><p> </p><p>Ushijima turned towards Kageyama, “Shall the two of us be on a team together?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds fine to me,” the setter nodded. </p><p> </p><p>At first, Komori was about to speak up, because he was certain Sakusa would have wanted to have been on the same team as Ushijima. But glancing over, he saw the gleam in his cousin’s eye at the ace’s words<em>. Ahhh, no</em>, Komori noted, <em>of course</em> <em>Kiyoomi would rather challenge Ushijima than play with him… </em>The libero shook his head, <em>Maybe I shouldn’t try to pry </em>-- he noticed how despite no words being spoken, Ushijima and Kiyoomi were locking eyes from across the table -- <em>and just let this play out. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Sakusa’s voice lowered, drawing Komori’s attention. The libero turned and saw his cousin staring at him, “are you okay? You’re really quiet and you look tired.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh! Uhm,” Komori glanced away, “it’s nothing --”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not getting sick, are you?” Sakusa interrupted, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.</p><p> </p><p>His cousin’s eyes widened, and then his face broke into a small smile, “No, no, I just didn’t get a lot of sleep, that’s all.” </p><p> </p><p>“Why not?” Sakusa glanced at him with doubt, “You’re sure you’re not catching a cold?”</p><p> </p><p>“Positive,” Komori rose from his seat with his empty tray, “Don’t worry about me, Kiyoomi-kun.” </p><p> </p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glance at Ushijima. He was studying Sakusa’s face, his expression unreadable, but his eyes trained on his cousin, as if pondering something.</p><p> </p><p>Komori looked back at his cousin, seemingly oblivious to Ushijima’s stare, walking away to dispose of his tray instead. The libero watched his cousin leave the table and let out an audible sigh,</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ushijima...you’ve got your work cut out for you.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE: </b>
</p><p>Sorry this is more of a transitional chapter, but I couldn't wait to get it out...now...Ushijima, you've laid down the gauntlet. So, time to own up, right? </p><p> </p><p>I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. The Flare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I’ve been told this is quite the slow burn, so, here’s a little flicker of flame.<br/>Miiiiight get an extra chapter in by Valentine’s Day...we shall see.</p><p>In the meantime, I hope you enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sakusa would never say it out loud, but he loved playing against Ushijima. </p><p> </p><p>Komori used to tease him at the training camps they attended throughout high school, nudging him with his elbow, “Come on, Kiyoomi-kun! You should ask Ushijima-san to be on your team!”</p><p> </p><p>But there was something about seeing the tall, dark-haired ace from across the net. The way his arm swooped back and then pivoted forward with enough force to spike the ball over the top white nylon and crash into the floor beneath his opponents. The way, as he touched down, the man’s normally stoic, unreadable expression melted into a small, gentleman’s smile. </p><p> </p><p>It made Sakusa’s heart beat faster, the sweat less salty in his mouth; a primal feeling of adrenaline surging through his veins that Sakusa never experienced in any other setting. He loved it, he fed off it; he <em> lived </em>for it. </p><p> </p><p>Of course, he couldn’t tell anyone about these feelings without his throat swelling shut with embarrassment or anxiety. So he just scoffed and cranked his head away with a huff, “We would wipe the floor with you all. What would be challenging about that?”</p><p> </p><p>His first year of high school, he remembered the moment after Ushijima had spiked the ball directly at him, only to have Sakusa receive and fly the ball right back to the setter. When the curly-haired man rose to his feet, he gazed across the white webbing and saw the ace land on the ground, his hazel eyes locking onto the spiker’s. Sakusa felt magnetized, walking towards him, with a confused look on his face. <em> Why is he smiling?  </em></p><p> </p><p>The Shiratorizawa spiker gave Sakusa a quick nod, “That was impressive.” </p><p> </p><p>The dark-eyed man tilted his head, “I just received your spike. That’s all.” </p><p> </p><p>“I was giving it my all, and you bumped it without question,” Ushijima turned to move as the formation was changing, glancing back with a glint in his eye, “I am happy to accept the challenge of getting to your level.” </p><p> </p><p>As he walked away, Sakusa stared in disbelief. <em> My level? Challenge? </em> The dark-eyed young man blinked. <em> Why did he feel suddenly so...light-headed? </em> His stomach churned, but he didn’t feel nauseous. <em> What was this?  </em></p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, the sound of his cousin’s voice drew Kiyoomi Sakusa from his nostalgic daydream back to the present. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey! Kiyoomi-kun,” Komori nudged him with his elbow, a gesture he continued to do even a decade later, “We’re about to start the drills.” </p><p> </p><p>“Apologies,” Sakusa ran a hand through his slick curls. He glanced over and saw Ushijima staring back at him from the other side of the white netting. Even after all these years, his hazel eyes still had that challenging gleam in them whenever Sakusa was about to compete against him. The ace had a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>The dark-eyed spiker felt a familiar wave roll through his stomach. He quickly turned away, to keep from staring. Komori gave a tilt of his head and raised his eyebrow at his cousin, shaking his head as if to say, <em> You’re such a mess. And noticeably so. </em></p><p> </p><p><em> Motoya, you have no idea </em>, Sakusa thought with a frown. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It was hard to believe it had been a day since he and Ushijima had been out to dinner. <br/><br/></p><p>Stepping out of the shower, he ran a towel through his hair. His arms were sore from practice today and he noticed a small bruise forming on the underside of his knee from where he dove for a receive earlier that day. </p><p> </p><p><em> Do I suggest we go out again? </em> Sakusa wondered. <em> Was it too soon to do that? Am I smothering him?  </em></p><p> </p><p>It suddenly hit the spiker that he was even asking these questions. That he <em> wanted </em> to go out to eat again with Ushijima. He buried his face in his hands as he leaned over the sink. <em> What are you even doing? Where is this going? </em> He had told himself this was a bad idea...but....<em>was it?</em></p><p> </p><p>He rose to full height and stared into the mirror in front of him.<em> Quit being ridiculous </em> , he told the reflection. A nagging voice scraped at his brain, rasping, <em> but you’re being greedy </em> . <em> Don’t get too ahead of yourself.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Sakusa sighed, scratching the back of his head. He was just going to play this by ear, not be hasty, and if Ushijima asked him to go to dinner with him again tonight, then so be it.</p><p> </p><p>Walking out of the bathroom, he nearly ran into his cousin, who was hurriedly throwing a dark blue cardigan on. “Oh! Sorry, Kiyoomi-kun!” </p><p> </p><p>“Watch where you’re going before you collide into someone,” Sakusa grumbled, but Komori wasn’t paying attention, throwing his shoes on. “What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, right,” Komori’s cheeks were pink, “Kageyama and I were invited to go out with some of the other players for dinner,” He adjusted the back of his shoe and stood up, “Afterwards, we’re going to see a movie.” </p><p> </p><p>“A <em>movie</em>?” Sakusa eyed him suspiciously, “With everything going on right now?” The last place the dark-haired spiker wanted to go to was a sticky, public theater with a pandemic barely on the mend. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s a private viewing,” Komori rolled his eyes, “Gao-san has a relative that works in the theater that got us tickets! But,” he hesitated, his voice turned sheepish, “Ushijima-san went downstairs to get a drink; he didn’t want to go, and I didn’t figure you wanted to either.” </p><p> </p><p>“No, absolutely not,” Sakusa replied instantly, though his brain was slowly re-processing to match up with what his cousin was saying, “Hey, wait, though -- but that --”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, Kiyoomi-kun!” Motoya waved and was already headed to the door, “I’m late to meet Kageyama in the lobby, but I’ll catch you later! Bye, bye!” And suddenly he vanished out the door. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> If he and Kageyama are gone for dinner...that meant... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>A few moments later, Ushijima walked back into the hotel room, a can of tea in hand. The tall brunette and curly-haired man stared at one another as an awkward silence fell between them.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa sighed,<em> I guess that answers my question. </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The pair opted for a closer restaurant this time, so they walked instead of hailing a cab. The air was cold, but the wind wasn’t blowing much, so the brisk walk was manageable. </p><p> </p><p>Finally reaching the warmth of the first restaurant that came into view, an Izakaya, they huddled into a couple’s booth -- sitting facing one another -- as Ushijima ordered a beer. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re actually drinking?” Sakusa raised an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>The ace didn’t say anything at first and Sakusa blinked, staring at him. <em> Are his cheeks wind burnt, or… </em></p><p> </p><p>“Tomorrow is the last day of practice,” Ushijima finally replied. “I just felt like getting one.” His gaze connected with Sakusa’s, “Would you like one as well?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m fine,” Sakusa waved his hand dismissively, “But you won’t hurt my feelings having one.” </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, good,” Ushijima nodded, and he changed the subject to talking about a recording of Goshiki’s V-League match he’d recently watched. Sakusa leaned his cheek into his hand as Ushijima recounted the plays of the video. </p><p> </p><p>Wakatoshi Ushijima was often regarded by his peers as being incredibly introverted, shy, and dry. Which was true to an extent, but Sakusa noticed how he loved to analyze and recount moments from matches he watched. While certainly nowhere near Shoyo Hinata’s level of excited -- hands waving and weird sound effects -- there was a noticeable difference in Ushijima’s expression during these conversations; a cadence to his voice, a gleam in his eyes, that wasn’t normally present. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa would occasionally chime in with questions about his teammates or give his opinion about a certain play, but for most part, he just listened. And honestly, he felt he could remain in this little bubble of conversation with him for hours. Most people drove him insane with their ramblings, but not <em> Wakatoshi-kun </em>. </p><p> </p><p>The conversation lasted until their meal was finished. Afterwards, once the bill was paid, the pair stepped outside back into the cold air that slapped their faces. Sakusa glanced at his phone, the white letters shining out 8:48 p.m. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not that late,” Sakusa mumbled, more to himself than anything, but his head turned as he realized Ushijima had heard him.</p><p> </p><p>The ace glanced around them, “We could...walk around for a bit before going back.” </p><p> </p><p>“Eh?” Sakusa tilted his head, confused, “Where?” </p><p> </p><p>“The Shinjuku National Garden’s exhibits are currently closed,” Ushijima wasn’t looking at Sakusa now, “But we could walk around the park regardless.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa didn’t know what to say.<em> Did...Wakatoshi-kun just suggest we go on a stroll...together? Right now?! </em>He vaguely remembered the involuntary nodding of his head, and before he could give a proper answer, the pair headed to the Shinjuku Gyoen, Sakusa trailing Ushijima like a lost puppy. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“It’s so different this time of year,” Sakusa breathed. Several of the trees had lost their leaves, or branches were covered with a dusting of snow from earlier that week. They had been walking through the garden for a while, yet the park was surprisingly empty. <em> We’re probably the only ones crazy enough to stroll through here in the dead of winter... </em></p><p> </p><p>“Indeed,” Ushijima nodded, glancing around the scenery as they walked.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa’s gaze shifted to the ace, “You’re not from Tokyo; when have you come here?” His tone was more curious than accusatory.</p><p> </p><p>The brunette made a small frown, thinking, “I brought my mother here, to the cherry blossom area, when I first joined the Adlers.” </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Ah </em>,” Sakusa nodded, his voice dry with sarcasm, “The famous picture day spot for every Tokyo youth about to start school...or,” Sakusa shrugged, “it’s at least the spot my mother would drag my siblings and I to for our preschool photoshoot.” </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t appreciate the cherry blossoms?” Ushijima inquired, but Sakusa could tell by the slightest raise of his tone that he was joking. </p><p> </p><p><em> It’s getting easier to notice </em>. “It’s not that,” he paused, mulling over the words, “I just never had another reason to come here.” He eyed Ushijima suspiciously, making it his turn to tease, “What? Are you a big aficionado for cherry blossom viewings?”</p><p> </p><p>“My family always had several types of trees surrounding the house, and a garden,” Ushijima shrugged his broad shoulders, “I’ve always appreciated the hard work it takes with gardening; to cultivate one, and the rewards one gets from that effort.” His voice seemed quieter than usual. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa took in the sight of him, the way his hazel eyes softened; almost dangerously so, because they made the curly-haired spiker want to reach out and touch his arm. To flick the thick strands of ashen brown hair back; check to make sure he was really flesh and blood. </p><p> </p><p>Instead, the dark-eyed man just shot him a sideways grin, almost saddened it was hidden by his mask. “It’s not that much different than volleyball, then?” He saw Ushijima’s blank stare and clarified, “Gardening, that is. The effort, the precision? Sounds similar to volleyball to me.” </p><p> </p><p>The brunette’s hazel eyes widened as he took in Sakusa’s words. Then, before the curly-haired man could react, Ushijima hooked his arm into Sakusa’s. Panic flashed before Sakusa’s eyes, as the ace quickly -- albeit timidly-- asked, “Is this okay?”</p><p> </p><p><em> What is going on?! </em> Sakusa’s brain exploded, before another voice in his head reasoned, <em> Calm down. Calm down. He’s not holding your hand -- it’s just your arm in his </em> . He let out an audible exhale, steam billowing from under his mask, <em> You are making it weird -- say something! </em></p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” was all he could get out. Sakusa would have smacked his forehead out of embarrassment, if his body wasn’t too busy trying to process the fact that Wakatoshi Ushijima was walking side-by-side with him, arms interlocked, through the Shinjuku National Garden of all places. If last night didn't feel like a date, tonight definitely did. </p><p> </p><p>“I would like to see this place in the spring, though,” Ushijima’s gaze flitted around them, “when the trees are in full bloom.” </p><p> </p><p><em> Is he suggesting he come back here? With me? </em> Sakusa’s eyes widened, but before he could stop himself, he replied, “You should. We could --” he paused, but it was too late now to stop, “-- we could see come back and see them.” </p><p> </p><p>The ace’s eyes were wider still and for a second, it looked like he was lost for words. Finally, Ushijima’s face melted into a small, sincere smile. “I would like that.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They had walked together for about an hour, when Sakusa finally glanced at his phone. The two had exited the park and were on their way back to the hotel. The entire walk through the gardens, they had talked about their childhood -- mainly Sakusa’s in Tokyo -- and the places he was most familiar: restaurants, museums, sightseeing spots, etc. </p><p> </p><p>But now, as they turned towards the final street before the hotel, their conversation had slowly fizzled, the last ember glowing on a dying fire. </p><p> </p><p>Arms still woven together, Sakusa had reached for his phone to check the time, and pocketing it back, he saw a speck of white touch his gloved hand. </p><p> </p><p><em>Snow</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The two had just crossed the street and were now a few hundred feet from the hotel. Tiny white petals slowly drifted down around them, illuminated by the overhead streetlight. Sakusa peered up, the white glow encasing him and Ushijima. When he looked down, his eyes met Ushijima’s. He froze. </p><p> </p><p><em> What was that look? </em>It was one Sakusa had never witnessed Ushijima exhibit before.</p><p> </p><p>His expression wasn't melancholic or confused, but his eyes were glassy and brows slightly furrowed; the light was haloed around his head so that his overgrown bangs cast a shadow across his face.  </p><p> </p><p><em> Did he not have a good time? </em>Sakusa wondered, frowning. He thought the walk, despite it being ridiculously cold, had been a pleasant one, overall. </p><p> </p><p>“I enjoyed our walk,” the curly-haired man offered weakly, still unsure what was wrong and fishing for an answer. </p><p> </p><p>The ace didn’t immediately reply, but then a faint smile ghosted his lips. Sakusa looked down as Ushijima unhooked his arm from his, and that’s when he noticed the ace’s hands.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Wakatoshi-kun is trembling. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ushijima’s voice was low and deep when he finally replied, “I did, as well.” With a shaky hand, the ace dusted some snow off of Sakusa’s jacket. The spiker hadn’t noticed the accumulation on his shoulders. <em> Oh </em> , he thought absentmindedly, as he watched Ushijima’s hand slowly rise from his jacket towards the outside of his ear. <em> Oh </em>. </p><p> </p><p>The brunette took his finger and thumb and carefully, with meticulous care, eased the mask strap from around Sakusa’s ear. <em> Oh </em>, was all the spiker’s brain could muster in those seconds, as the black mask lowered. The cold air suddenly hit Sakusa’s face and he flinched from the chill. </p><p> </p><p>Ushijima paused, and leaned away, the light now illuminating his face. And then Sakusa saw it. He saw the expression on the ace’s face and knew it all too well: </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Wakatoshi-kun was nervous.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” Sakusa didn’t know the source of Ushijima’s troubles, or why he had felt the need to grab at his mask, but the dark-haired man knew that feeling of anxiety all too well, and the last person he wanted sharing in that experience was the tall brunette in front of him. “It’s okay,” Sakusa repeated, his eyes scanning Ushijima’s, searching for an answer as to why he seemed so scared. <em>What's wrong? </em></p><p> </p><p>The ace let out a sharp exhale and the tension seemed to release itself from his shoulders, all the anxiety pouring from his mouth as steam into the snow-filled air. Sakusa smiled, <em> There, let it out. It always feels good to let that stres-- </em></p><p> </p><p>But his thoughts were cut short as Ushijima placed a hand on the side of Sakusa’s neck, right under the ear where he’d freed the face mask. His palm was hot to the touch, and a spike of heat coursed through Sakusa’s body. His mind couldn't focus on anything but what was in front of him and the billowing flakes of white cascading around them. He realized Ushijima’s face was suddenly close...<em> very </em> close.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> -- Oh, but this is --  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Close enough that Sakusa could see the tiniest flecks of green in the ace's irises before they closed, feel Ushijima’s nose bump his cheek, the faint warm breath ghost against his skin...</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> -- He’s  --  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>...and then slowly, he felt Ushijima’s soft lips capture his. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE: </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Finally. Hope you all enjoyed the first appetizer. <br/>Actually, it’s more like the mint chocolate you get on your napkin at a fancy restaurant, but there you go.</p><p> </p><p>I hope to get another chapter out by Valentine’s Day, but we shall see...if not, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, regardless! Thanks for reading!</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Electric Flu</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Your comments have given me life; I can’t even tell you. ^^<br/>I wanted to get a new chapter in time for Valentine’s Day. So, here you are.</p><p>For the record, it’s still January at this point in the story...so….</p><p>Valentine’s Day has not happened yet for these characters. Just putting that out there.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Oh, but this is </em> -- Sakusa’s brain was going haywire, short-circuiting -- <em> He’s </em>-- </p><p> </p><p>He felt Ushijima’s right hand on his neck, just under his ear, and his left hand had situated at Sakusa’s hip, pressing gently as the ace leaned forward, their lips gingerly connecting.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa had always dreaded his first kiss. </p><p> </p><p>He’d avoided it throughout high school, surrounded by meat-heads who barely knew how to apply deodorant properly, so how could he expect them to practice proper oral hygiene? Not counting the fact that nearly everyone in his high school was ravenously experimenting with swapping saliva and spreading disease amongst each other. An outbreak of Mono in his high school his second year had made him all the more wary of locking lips with anyone in the school.</p><p> </p><p>As time went on, he abandoned all hope of ever exchanging something so intimate, as most of the people his age were either in a committed relationship by that point or of no interest to him. Except for one man, of course, whom Sakusa had carried a torch for since middle school.</p><p> </p><p>And this man’s chest was now only inches from Sakusa’s, where he could still feel the edge of his wool coat; eyes closed, the ace’s lips pressed against his. He should feel disgusted, panicked, be processing a million things wrong with the scenario, but in that split second the kiss was initiated, all Sakusa could think was:</p><p> </p><p><em> His lips are soft </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa didn’t know what to do; with his hands, with his mouth, with his thoughts, <em> anything </em>. He had been shoved off the cliff with his back to whatever lay beneath him. </p><p> </p><p>So, he met the kiss with the only reaction he was familiar with...</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa, frozen, stared blankly at Ushijima as the ace pulled away. Snow, by this point, was piling on their shoulders and atop their heads. </p><p> </p><p>The ace met Sakusa’s polarized expression and the spiker saw his hazel eyes darken, the brows pulled together as if slightly confused. </p><p> </p><p><em> Say something </em> , Sakusa’s mind screamed, <em> Anything! </em> But the spiker wasn’t sure what to say. <em> Did he like the kiss? Well, of course he liked the kiss. Wait, did he? What did that mean?  </em></p><p> </p><p>Ushijima straightened, his head turned away, and Sakusa could have sworn that his cheeks were crimson. Though maybe they were just wind-burnt. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m...we should get inside,” Ushijima noted quietly, eyes not meeting Sakusa’s. </p><p> </p><p>The spiker stared, his black eyes opened wide, <em> Wait...is he mad? What do I say? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Sure,” Was all Sakusa could muster, as Ushijima turned and started towards the hotel, the dark-haired man following him, his mind twenty kinds of frazzled. </p><p> </p><p><em> What just happened?! Is he mad at me? Why didn’t I say anything? </em> Sakusa pulled the mask back over his face, <em> What should I say? ‘Thanks, Wakatoshi-kun! Can I have another?’ </em> Sakusa grimaced, <em> No. Maybe it was a mistake. A spur of the moment thing… </em></p><p> </p><p>They walked in silence until they reached the hotel room, neither of them speaking.</p><p> </p><p> Ushijima pulled the room key from his coat and as he unlocked the door, Komori bounced into view, “Oh! I was about to text and see where you two were!” The libero’s glance suddenly paled, as he glanced quickly between Ushijima and Sakusa, “Uhm, you two okay? You both look like you just came from a wake.”</p><p> </p><p>Ushijima glanced up quickly, his face sparking back to life,  “Oh. Sorry. I’m going to shower, that’s all.” He stoically walked past a befuddled Komori.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, okay,” The libero raised a brow as he watched Ushijima walk past. “Kageyama went downstairs to the vending machine, so…” but his voice trailed as he watched Ushijima grab his folded sleepwear from the bed and carry them to the bathroom, ignoring the pair. </p><p> </p><p>Komori’s head snapped towards Sakusa. “What <em> happened </em>?!” He said in a hushed whisper. </p><p> </p><p>The dark-haired spiker dragged him out into the hallway by his shirt, the door closing behind him. Komori’s eyebrows were nearly disappearing into his bangs. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa let out a large exhale. “Motoya, he...Wakatoshi-kun kissed me.” </p><p> </p><p>“<em> HE DID WHA- </em>-?!” Sakusa ran a hand to Komori’s mouth, silencing him. The libero stared with wide eyes as Sakusa explained what happened. </p><p> </p><p>“I...I froze, Motoya,” Sakusa tugged at his own hair. “I didn’t know what to do.” He lowered the hand from his cousin’s face. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m amazed you didn’t mace him, to be honest,” Komori dead-panned, but flinched when Sakusa sent him an icy glare. “Kidding! But...Kiyoomi...Kiyoomi-kun, you realize what he must be thinking right now, right?” </p><p> </p><p>“That I was a terrible kisser?” Sakusa tilted his head.<em> He had no experience after all...Wakatoshi-kun probably had plenty of experience </em> , but his mind flashed with an image of spiky red hair and he shook off the mental picture, frustrated. <em> Stop, not now.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“No, you idiot,” Komori sighed, resting a hand on Sakusa’s shoulder. Sakusa eyed it, but said nothing. “He probably thinks you didn’t like it and that you aren’t going to reciprocate those feelings.” </p><p> </p><p>“But I…” Sakusa didn’t know how to respond, so he stopped.</p><p> </p><p>Komori tilted his head forward and raised an eyebrow as far as it would go, “But you <em> what </em>, Kiyoomi-kun?” His gaze turned serious. “Have you now decided you don’t like him?” </p><p> </p><p>“No, I,” Sakusa huffed, <em> I have no clue how to handle this! </em> “I don’t know how to feel.” </p><p> </p><p>The libero let out a loud sigh, “You pine after this man for a decade and now, now that he finally proves he likes you back, you run.” Sakusa jerked his head at the last word, and Komori shook his head, “I pegged you for a lot of things, cousin, but a coward wasn’t one of them.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Coward? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“What did you say?!” Sakusa snarled, but his voice was exasperated. “That’s not true...I just...I don’t know what to do…”</p><p> </p><p>“Then talk to him,” Komori exhaled, and his face transitioned from that of irritation to sincerity, “Ushijima-san is <em> not </em> going to judge you. He’s technically got more to be embarrassed by...I mean, he kissed you in public and you didn’t even <em> react </em>. He’s probably mortified right now.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa tilted his head at his cousin’s words. <em>He hadn’t thought of that, the idea that Wakatoshi-kun would be the one actually at odds in this situation. But then...he had initiated the kiss.</em> <em>And I didn’t say a thing. </em>“Yeah…”</p><p> </p><p>“Get out of your own head,” Komori took a finger and tapped Sakusa’s forehead, to which the spiker swatted his hand away, “And just communicate with him. I swear, I’m rooming with the most socially backward people on this team!” </p><p> </p><p>“Fine!” Sakusa hissed, “But...can you leave us alone? I don’t want to talk to him while you and Kageyama are in the room.”</p><p> </p><p>Komori straightened, a quick smile appearing. “Now <em> that </em>, I can manage. I’ll find Kageyama and see if anyone in the other rooms is still up to hang out with. Just text me when you’re done talking...unless…,” the libero’s smile went coy, “you need the room to yourselves for the rest of th--” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa kicked him in the side and shoved him away, as he gathered up his pride, courage, and whatever wits he had in him remaining, and walked back into the hotel room. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sakusa was at the couch-bed, taking off his coat, when the bathroom door opened and Ushijiima stepped out in gray sweatpants and a white shirt. His hair looked towel-dried, still damp and flattened. </p><p> </p><p>Their eyes met, but Ushijima quickly looked away, heading towards the bed.<em> Damn, maybe he is mad, </em> Sakusa reached out, his brain screaming at him to say something, but he was struggling to find any words. Suddenly, his cousin’s voice echoed in his mind: </p><p> </p><p><em> Coward </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Wakatoshi-kun,” Sakusa managed, ripping the mask from his face. The urgency of the action stopped the ace in his tracks as he turned and stared with a confused expression. “I...can we talk?” </p><p> </p><p>But Ushijima stared back stone-faced. It was a look that made Sakusa flinch. “If it is about earlier, I am sorry.” The ace frowned, “I overstepped and didn’t mean--” </p><p> </p><p>“No!” Sakusa blurted out, immediately drawing a fist to his mouth, his cheeks burning. “No, I’m...sorry. I just…” </p><p> </p><p>Ushijima stared at him in surprise as Sakusa laid the mask on top of his coat and made his way to Kageyama’s bed and sat on top of it. Had it been anyone else’s bed, he would have refrained, but he knew the setter was one of the more hygienic on the team. The ace slowly sat down on his mattress, a few feet of open air between the two as they sat facing one another. </p><p> </p><p>“Wakatoshi-kun...I…,” <em> How does one sum up that you’ve spent a decade admiring someone and it not be creepy? </em> Sakusa wondered, his eyes scanning the floor. <em> Is that even possible? How do I word it? </em> He raised his head and sighed, “I’m glad you kissed me.” <em> God, that sounded awful. </em></p><p> </p><p>Ushijima’s eyes widened a fraction, “But you…”</p><p> </p><p>“I have no experience with this,” Sakusa offered, half-reasoning with himself, his hands folded in his lap, “So, I didn’t know how to react, but…,” He sighed, “I’m trying to find a way to tell you...without being cheesy…” He rubbed his temple with one hand, and hearing a soft chuckle, looked up to see Ushijima staring at him, a flood of relief spreading across his face.</p><p> </p><p>The ace’s shoulders visibly loosened. “I see.” And Sakusa could swear there was a ghost of a smile playing across his lips. </p><p> </p><p>“I have a lot of...I’m not the most personable, I realize,” Sakusa mused, feeling the weight leaving his chest as well. “When things happen, I sometimes don’t have a reaction to them like most…”</p><p> </p><p>“Neither do I,” Ushijima shifted his weight on the mattress slightly, “I was trying to ease into the situation this entire evening.”</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa blinked. <em> What? </em>Then it hit him. “You mean the park?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Ushijima’s gaze focused on his, “I didn’t think you wanted to hold hands, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“I liked that,” Sakusa straightened, “The arm thing. That was...that was fine,” He reasoned, finding it easier and easier to talk to the ace. <em> Is that why he had a drink, too? </em></p><p> </p><p>“And I was going to wait until we were inside, but I didn’t want anyone to see...in case,” there as a pause in Ushijima’s voice, an intense melancholy that contrasted with the ace’s strong demeanor, “...it wasn’t mutual.” </p><p> </p><p><em> Wasn’t mutual?! How could it not be?! </em> Sakusa’s brain screamed, but he reigned himself in. <em> Since when was I such a damn mess about all this? </em> He mused, but felt a nagging image of Komori staring incredulously surface in his mind and shook it away. </p><p> </p><p>Realizing there had been an awkwardly long pause since Ushijima’s words, Sakusa stammered, reviving the conversation, “S-sorry, I just...damn.” <em> Get. It. Together. </em> He saw Ushijima’s brow raise slightly. <em> He must think you’re insane by this point </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Wakatoshi-kun, I...I’m terrible at expressing myself. I’m aware of this and up until this point, I haven’t cared about it at all.” </p><p> </p><p>The ace stared at him, an unreadable expression, as Sakusa continued, “But...I...do like you.” He winced, fear flooding him as the words finally left his lips. A sense of urgency surged through him, as he quickly added, “But I’m not sure what we do...I...you...we are on the National Olympic Team! Where do we go from here? How do we handle this?” </p><p><br/>There was a pregnant pause, in which they stared at each other, the words dangling in the air around them. Ushijima finally exhaled, and the most sincere smile spread across his face. “We handle it like adults,” He smiled. “Like one would on the National Japanese Olympic Team.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa stared at him in disbelief, not sure how to process any of this. <em> He’s not leaving? He’s not mad? He...it’s mutual?! </em> “And...how is that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m in no rush with this relationship, Sakusa,” the ace said slowly, and it felt strange for the dark-haired man to hear Ushijima say his name, “we’ve known each other for a long time. And I don’t believe it will get in the way of our practices and preparation for the Olympics.” </p><p> </p><p><em> Sure you SAY that </em>, Sakusa’s mind snipped, but he held his tongue.</p><p> </p><p>“I am willing to give this a chance if you are as well,” Ushijima tilted his head and Sakusa could practically melt from the gaze he was giving him. </p><p> </p><p><em>Was this some sick joke?</em> <em>Was someone going to rush in at any given moment and tell him it was all a prank? How long had he dreamt of this moment? </em></p><p> </p><p>Sakusa cleared his throat, “Yeah, I...I would be willing as well.” He owed Wakatoshi-kun that much, to admit his feelings as well. <em> Are we really trying this?! On the eve of the Olympics? Me...and Wakatoshi-Kun? </em>Sakusa felt his face flush. </p><p> </p><p>The ace smiled, a genuine, dreamy smile that Sakusa wanted to frame, “Good. Now...” </p><p> </p><p>The ace slowly rose to his feet, and -- to Sakusa’s immediate horror -- moved to sit beside him on Kageyama’s bed. Sakusa instantly felt as if the space between them had an electric current sparking around him. <em> What? What is he-- </em></p><p> </p><p>Ushijima had turned his body to face Sakusa, one arm straight and propping him on the mattress, the other slowly resting on Sakusa’s knee. “Is this okay?” The ace eyed the hand. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa was glad the ace couldn’t hear his internal screaming. “Uhm, yes.” <em> Wakatoshi-kun was freshly bathed, after all. </em></p><p> </p><p>“It was cold and we were covered in snow, earlier,” Ushijima’s hazel eyes scanned the spiker’s face, searching. “If you are comfortable, I would like to kiss you properly.” </p><p> </p><p>There was one part of Sakusa’s brain -- the side he was most familiar with -- that was violently waving its arms and yelling to him that he wasn’t ready, that this was a very, very, bad idea and would not lead to good things.</p><p> </p><p>“If the others come in…” Sakusa said softly. “I’m not ready to tell…” and he couldn’t finish the sentence, his cheeks reddening. </p><p> </p><p>“I will just kiss you once, then,” Ushijima replied quietly, “Before they return.” </p><p> </p><p>The ace’s hazel eyes were gleaming. It was similar to how he’d looked under the streetlight, except now there weren’t shadows playing over his face. His skin was illuminated by the yellow glow of the hotel lamp. </p><p> </p><p>The other part of Sakusa’s brain -- that had ceased to make an appearance until this whole courtship with Wakatoshi-kun had began -- was begging the spiker to heed the urges of the current between them, to grab Ushijima by the shoulders and swallow him whole and forgo the barriers that had been so carefully laid between the two of them. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” Sakusa managed weakly, doubt cast heavy across his face, “I...I haven’t done this before...so...” </p><p> </p><p>The ace lifted his hand from Sakusa’s knee, slowly placing itself at the base of Sakusa’s neck, his long fingers splayed over his skin. <em> He really likes neck-touching, doesn’t he? </em> Sakusa observed. He found it wasn’t worthy of complaint, though.</p><p> </p><p>“But you <em> have </em>done this before,” Ushijima teased softly, with the smallest of smiles. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa scoffed, panicked, “Ah, I didn’t mean--” but the ace chuckled him to silence. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” The brunette’s smile was pure, simple, “I’m not experienced, either.” Sakusa noticed the ace’s eyes flicker across his lips, “We can learn together.” </p><p> </p><p>The confusion that had clouded Sakusa’s mind in the snow earlier was suddenly replaced by a gnawing apprehension of the situation. Ushijima’s hand slid up his neck ever-so-slightly, tucking delicately behind Sakusa’s head so the ace’s fingers were barely threaded in the curls at the nape of his neck. </p><p> </p><p>A burning anticipation settled into Sakusa’s chest, as the ends of the ace’s grazed against his forehead. Before, Sakusa had been so stunned, his eyes had remained open the entire time. Now, as Ushijima closed in, it seemed wrong to stare. The spiker’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt those soft lips once again, tenderly pressing. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa wasn’t sure what to do, but rather than remain paralyzed, he clumsily reached a hand forward, his palm suddenly pressed against firm muscle, and Sakusa realized -- <em> his thigh </em> -- and anchored his hand there. </p><p> </p><p>Ushijima let out a soft gasp and in that second his mouth opened, Sakusa leaned forward and chased the kiss. His lips found Ushijima’s and the kiss deepened, Sakusa tilting his head slightly, so their noses didn’t bump any further. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is...I… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The ace sucked slightly on Sakusa’s bottom lip, as if clinging to the kiss, before slowly pulling away. The two opened their eyes and stared at each other. </p><p> </p><p>Ushijima’s cheeks were impossibly red, his breath audible and hazel eyes searching Sakusa’s. The dark-haired spiker realized he could hear his breathing as well, as he leaned away to give the ace more space and so he could gather his own thoughts, which were scattered beyond repair. </p><p> </p><p>“I…,” Sakusa finally spoke, breaking the heavy silence between them. He looked down and realized his hand was still on Ushijima’s thigh. “I should get a shower.” He slowly rose to his feet, lifting his hand. The ace followed the hand as it left, his face clouded as he frowned at the gesture. </p><p>Sakusa took a step past Ushijma, stopped in his tracks, and slowly pivoted back. He tentatively rested his hand on Ushijima’s shoulder, though, “But…” the ace’s eyes were locked onto his, “I enjoyed that.” </p><p> </p><p>The look Ushijima gave him would be one he’d remember for a long time. The gloom instantly faded from his eyes, his expression a kaleidoscope of doubt, awe, and suddenly mingled hopefulness. The frown melted into a grin. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad. I did, too.” </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa lifted his hand from Ushijima’s shoulder and with a wordless smile turned to gather his clothing and retreat into the bathroom. </p><p> </p><p>His mind had been numb since the kiss, but a single thought was suddenly sprouting across all crevices of his brain: </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I want more.  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>While Sakusa showered, Ushijima made his way downstairs to the vending machines. He glanced at his phone; it read 11:36 pm, which was late considering they had one more practice to get in tomorrow before the camp officially ended. </p><p> </p><p>His mind processing everything that had just happened, he absent-mindedly looked at his options and reached to put his money into the machine. </p><p> </p><p>And then he heard it. </p><p> </p><p>It was the tiniest sound, a squeaking of a sneaker against the concrete floor. But it was definitely someone’s shoe. Ushijima paused and stepped away from the vending machine. It had been close, and the ace noticed that a few yards away was a storage room with the door cracked open. </p><p> </p><p>Curious, he stepped forward towards the door. It was dark, with only the faint blue glow of the vending machines, so he was certain he wouldn’t be seen. But he also realized he wouldn’t be able to see who was in the broom closet. </p><p> </p><p>That didn’t matter, though, as a faint, airy gasp filled the air. </p><p>“K-Kageyama! I --” </p><p> </p><p>Ushijima seized, spinning away from the door and silently hurrying back to the hotel room, forgetting about the drink. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE: </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Happy Valentine’s Weekend! </p><p> </p><p>I love reading angst, but not so much writing it (don’t worry, there’s still more angst to come...and I’m <em> dreading </em> it) and these <em> are </em>adults we’re talking about...now...surely nothing bad can happen to our recently-confessed volleyball idiots...right?</p><p> </p><p>And what do we do with this new development? Hm. <br/>We’ll see I guess. </p><p> </p><p>Thanks so much for reading the story so far!</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Fire-Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa realizes Ushijima likes him.<br/>Dreams do come true.</p><p>But now what do we do? </p><p>T Rating from Here on In, y’all..just wanted to warn.</p>
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    <p>
  <em>“I am willing to give this a chance if you are as well.” </em>
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</p><p>The ace's face had been so sincere in that moment, but then, <em>when wasn’t the man’s expression ever pure? </em>Any time Wakatoshi Ushijima had opened his mouth, his statements were simple, genuine; honest. It was one of the most valuable traits he possessed in Sakusa’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The curly-haired spiker shifted next to Komori, knowing by the dead silence around him and the moon already out of sight through the window that it was likely between two and four in the morning. But he couldn’t sleep. Not now, not after that second kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Although Sakusa lay perfectly still now in bed, his face staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation, a storm of conflicting emotions raged within. The sensible, ever-present side of him was reminding him of everything he had to keep track of now, if he was to be in a relationship with Ushijima: making sure Wakatoshi-kun bathed, washed his hands, brushed teeth, and so on.</p><p> </p><p>But another side of Sakusa was flitting a hand at those intricacies and instead reminding him of the ace’s soft lips against his, his broad hands pressed warm against his neck, long fingers twisted in inky curls.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa blinked and felt his face flush. <em>Hm</em>. The spiker thought mildly.<em> This was new. </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Komori had arrived back in the hotel room near midnight; Ushijima and Sakusa were both in their respective beds, sitting up and talking when he opened the door. Kageyama was already in the shower.<br/><br/></p><p>Immediately, Komori suspected something was...<em>off</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Both Ushijima and Sakusa went silent, their heads flying in the direction of the libero as soon as the door opened. “Easy, it’s just me,” the caramel-headed man chuckled as he shut the hotel door behind him. “Sorry I’m in so late.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine, we were still up,” Sakusa shrugged with a sigh, looking away. Komori wondered why his cheeks looked a little pink. He’d never seen his cousin blush, so it couldn’t be that.</p><p> </p><p>“We should probably get some rest for tomorrow,” Ushijima added curtly, crawling under the sheets and reaching to turn the light beside him off. “Practice is going to come too soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Agreed,” Sakusa nodded immediately, and turned over onto his side.</p><p> </p><p>Komori stood and stared between both of him, dumbfounded. <em>Did I walk in on them plotting a murder?!</em></p><p> </p><p>At that moment, though, Kageyama opened the bathroom door and Sakusa urged him to go shower without so much as an explanation. By the time he’d finished, the lights were already off and everyone was seemingly asleep.</p><p> </p><p>Komori eyed his cousin suspiciously as he crawled into bed beside him.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>What the hell happened while I was gone?</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sakusa rarely remembered his dreams; normally they were about being late for a volleyball match or a recurring nightmare where Atsumu threw his Itachiyama uniform in with the setter’s Inarizaki ones from high school -- the result being his uniform turning a sickly shade of greenish pink.</p><p> </p><p>However, as soon as he’d fallen back asleep, his thoughts took the shape of a tall, broad-shouldered man propped above him, thick hands splayed on either side of Sakusa’s head.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The spiker’s breath hitched as his eyes trailed from Ushijima’s hazel irises down his neck, to his chiseled bare chest and then lower to the firm muscles flexed before him. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em> “Don’t be afraid,” Ushijima’s voice was deep and rumbling; the pounding of Sakusa’s heart was deafening.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“O-okay,” Sakusa stammered, raising his hands gingerly, daring to graze across the ace’s taut abdomen. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ushijima lowered himself closer, his breath hot near the spiker’s throat. Whispering, the deep voice reverberated through Sakusa’s entire being.</em>
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</p><p>
  <em> “May I touch you?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Something nudged the spiker’s arm, causing him to gasp awake; eyes snapping open, arms flailing, the sheets flying off of him and Komori, whose face paled.</p><p> </p><p>“Woah, sorry, Kiyoomi-kun! I--,” The libero stopped short and his eyes flickered to Sakusa’s side, blinking and widening with surprise.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you --” Sakusa followed his cousin’s gaze, down his side to his lap where his sweatpants…, “--Oh, God!” Sakusa reached for the bedspread and quickly threw it over his lower body.</p><p> </p><p>But the damage was dealt. Komori leaned closer to Sakusa, eyes saucers, “What the hell is going on?!” he rasped loudly.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about?” Sakusa deflected, eyes scanning the room and realizing neither Ushijima or Kageyama were present.<em> They must already be downstairs.</em></p><p> </p><p>“Uhm, let’s see,” Komori straightened, his voice heightened, “I walked in last night and you and Ushijima went instantly quiet -- both of you looking guilty for <em>some</em> reason -- and then this morning!” He gestured to the bed in front of them, “Ushijima gets ready in silence but then turns to me and Kageyama and says -- and I quote -- ‘Tell <em>Sakusa</em> I went to eat breakfast early,’” Komori eyed the spikers’s covered lap, “And then just now, I wake up to you having morning w--”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, <em>enough</em>!” Sakusa waved his hands rapidly, stopping his cousin, “I’m an adult you know. It’s perfectly natural--”</p><p> </p><p>“Kiyoomi Sakusa, you have <em>never</em>--!” Komori stopped himself and huffed, shaking his head. He paused and his eyes flickered back to meet Sakusa’s, “What. Happened?”</p><p> </p><p><em>There was no point in hiding it any longer</em>, Sakusa sighed, and told his cousin about the prior night’s events. Afterwards, there was a pregnant pause between them.</p><p> </p><p>“I…,” Komori still was on the bed beside his cousin, his knees folded towards his chest. The libero shook his head, amazed, “I can’t believe you did it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you so surprised?” The curly-haired spiker sneered, feeling the embarrassment settle on his cheeks, “You said it was obvious he liked me.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I mean, it’s surreal, Kiyoomi-kun,” Komori looked in awe, “You...you’re <em>dating </em>Wakatoshi Ushijima.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I wouldn’t --,” But his gaze was quickly met by his cousin’s, who bore into him with a ‘<em>don't</em><em> you dare deny it’</em> look, “--yes, I guess I <em>am </em>dating him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to tell the rest of the team?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Sakusa responded after a beat, his eyes softening, “We talked about that last night. We’re going to take our time with this,” the spiker ran a hand through his hair. “And... I think it’s better if we hold off on telling everyone for now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmmm, fair enough,” Komori stretched his legs out, “I get it. Still, though…,” His eyes turned sly, “if I was dating Ushijima, I would tell the world.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you even saying?” Sakusa wretched, as he turned away to get out of bed. Luckily, the prior crisis was now averted.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just saying,” the libero’s smirk deepened, “Ushijima’s an attractive man, which you clearly agree with--<em>Ow</em>!” A pillow hit his side.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa cranked his head back to leer at his cousin, who had the biggest grin on his face.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>This is exactly why the rest of the team doesn’t need to know yet. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>His cousin continued to eye Sakusa and Ushijima suspiciously during the remainder of breakfast, though he was not the only one in observation. The curly-haired spiker noticed that every now and then, the ace’s gaze would tick towards Kageyama, as if expecting the setter to speak up about something. Both parties remained silent, though. Sakusa frowned, <em>it was shaping up to be a weird morning.</em></p><p> </p><p>Luckily, the final debriefing was standard; Coach Hibarida and Iwazumi gave everyone a set of exercises to practice over their next few weeks off.</p><p> </p><p>“We will take a few weeks off for you all to continue working on technique and getting these workout exercises down,” Hibarida noted, “Our next training camp will be the last weekend of February.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s nearly a month out,” Komori frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll get out of sync if we’re not careful,” Sakusa nodded beside him.</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously, we know what most of you are thinking,” Iwaizumi smirked, taking a step forward, “It’s a long time away from one another, but I’m sure that some of you will still be playing as teammates and competing against one another in matches. Treat that as practice just as you did this week.”</p><p> </p><p>“A damn mind reader,” Atsumu noted a few feet away from Sakusa and his cousin. He caught Sakusa glancing and his face formed a foxy smirk, “Oi, Omi-kun, have any good stories from this week? I feel like I haven’t talked to ya at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“None you’d be interested in,” Sakusa grumbled, turning his face away, knowing Atsumu was likely baring that annoying, shit-eating grin. He was already dreading their next match.</p><p> </p><p>“Be safe, make sure to follow the stretches Iwaiumi-san has given you,” Coach Hibarida smiled, “and be proud. You all are doing fantastic; I am excited for our next training!”</p><p> </p><p>Unlike the last camp, everyone stuck around this one to talk to one another. Some talked about the next matches they would be in and others started planning get-togethers over the next few weeks they’d be away from one another.</p><p> </p><p> Sakusa felt someone approaching his space, causing him to reflexively move aside. He looked down to see a patch of caramel hair and demanding eyes staring up at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Yaku-san,” the spiker frowned, his eyes narrowing slowly, “Can I help you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, can you, Sakusa-san?” Yaku raised an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you even getting at?” Sakusa looked away, but his mind raced. <em>Dammit, he knows, doesn’t he? How is that even possible?</em></p><p> </p><p>“I’ve noticed all morning that you and Ushijima-san have been <em>awfully</em> close to one another,” Yaku said in a low voice, “Dare I say, shooting each other the most flirtatious of stares back and forth…anything I need to know about?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Sakusa immediately replied, his eyes flashing. He paused, though, seeing the libero’s face fall, and added slowly, “But thank you…for all your help, Yaku-san. think I’ll be fine.”</p><p> </p><p> The libero’s face brightened, as he smirked softly, “Good. You know if you ever need to chat, just let me know. I’ll be honest,” Yaku scratched the back of his neck, “I kind of missed your panicked calls this week, but I guess that means all’s well?”</p><p> </p><p>“It is, thank you,” Sakusa couldn’t help but offer Yaku a small smile, despite himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Woah, woah, Omi-kun!” Atsumu, who had been walking by, stopped in his tracks and stared, “I think that’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen from ya all week!”</p><p> </p><p>“Why are we still here?” Sakusa spun around towards his cousin, completely ignoring the setter, “Motoya, let’s go!”</p><p> </p><p>“Omi-kun, <em>noooo</em>!” Atsumu teased, reaching to grab Sakusa’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>The spiker dodged the move, hissing, “Get back, Miya!”</p><p> </p><p>“Saaay, what are you all doing over our break?” The setter eased up, taking a step back.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be in the middle of matches in Russia,” Yaku shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Same here,” Komori noted, “We have a week’s break around Valentine’s Day, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s true,” Atsumu scratched his chin, a glint suddenly in his eye. Sakusa flinched; he knew exactly what that gleam meant. “Oi, Omi-Kun! Any plans for Valentine’s Day?”</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa mustered the most dead-panned expression he could, “Why would I?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Hmmmm</em>,” Atsumu waggled his eyebrows and glanced between Yaku and Komori, both of whom were looking away from the setter. Sakusa internally groaned; the liberos couldn’t look more suspicious. “I don’t know, Omi-kun…but, if you wanted to arrange a double date—”</p><p> </p><p>“Unlikely,” Sakusa quipped quickly and took off towards the bathroom, choosing to not look back as Atsumu whined for him to stay.</p><p>
  
</p><p><em>Double date? Am I that obvious? If this keeps up, the whole team will know about Ushijima and I by March…,</em> Sakusa frowned as he walked towards the restroom. <em>No, Atsumu and Yaku know that you’ve been trying to get Ushijima’s attention, so it’s only natural</em>…but his mind was wandering toward what the setter had just said.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Valentine’s Day? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa grimaced; he’d never celebrated the holiday. He liked chocolate, sure, but the idea of intimacy and all that Valentine’s Day represented had never struck him as something he’d be celebrating…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>…and yet. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Sakusa.”</p><p> </p><p>The spiker blinked and realized he’d nearly ran into Ushijima, who was exiting the restroom; Sakusa let out a heavy breath, the two standing awkwardly next to one another. It was the first time they had been alone all day, and Sakusa was trying his hardest to forget his dream, to not let his eyes dance over Ushijima’s frame, at his thin t-shirt stretched over his chest…</p><p> </p><p>“Any plans for our break?” Sakusa quickly broke the silence, his eyes dancing anywhere but towards the ace. <em>Why am I thinking about that? Why am I nervous?!</em></p><p> </p><p>“I had planned to do some traveling,” Ushijima noted matter-of-factly, seemingly unphased. “And I have a few matches left with the Adlers.”</p><p> </p><p>“Same,” Sakusa nodded, “Not so much on traveling, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you like to travel?” Ushijima asked, and the curly-haired man realized that he’d never heard the ace sound so curious.</p><p> </p><p>“I went to Australia to visit my sister last year,” Sakusa shrugged. “She was there for work and invited me. It was nice, but I don’t leave Tokyo often.” His eyes found the ace’s, “Not like you, apparently.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah,” Ushijima sighed, “I like to think I’ve traveled more this year than I have my entire life.” His eyes scanned the spiker’s face, which he felt reddening. “Sakusa, perhaps—”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah! Sorry, can I get past you both?” Sakusa jumped as Hinata popped on the other side of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, right, we are in the way,” Sakusa and Ushijima stepped aside, and the orange-haired man walked past. He glanced nervously towards the ace, hastily adding, “Actually…uhm…I was on my way to the restroom, so…excuse me.” He moved past a dejected Ushijima and hurried into the bathroom, immediately going into a stall, and sharply shutting the door behind him. He cradled his face in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Motoya was right. You are a coward.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>By the time he returned to the gym, Sakusa noticed Ushijima was gone. <em>Dammit</em>… He checked his phone and saw a text flash on the screen.</p><p> </p><p><strong> <em>Wakatoshi</em> </strong> <em>: My ride was leaving so I had to go early. I can call you later, though.</em></p><p> </p><p>The spiker sighed, ashamed he had run away from the conversation…again.</p><p> </p><p><strong> <em>Sakusa</em> </strong> <em>: I would like that. Talk to you this evening. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Ushijima-san had to leave,” Komori came up beside him as they walked out of the gym.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I’m going to call him later,” the spiker sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, look,” Komori stopped walking, and Sakusa turned to face him. His cousin was frowning, his face sober, “Don’t think we’re pushing you, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa blinked, “What? What are you talking about?”</p><p> </p><p>“I just…I don’t want you to feel pressured to be in this relationship. I could tell when Miya-san was talking to you, you were really uncomfortable.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Ah.</em> “Miya just has that effect sometimes,” Sakusa shrugged, “It’s fine. Really, Motoya.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” his cousin looked less than convinced, “I know this is what you’ve always wanted, but you shouldn’t have to rush anything you don’t want to.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s just it,” Sakusa pulled the mask over his face and shoved his hands into his tracksuit pockets, “For the first time…I think I do want…<em>something</em>.” He noticed the widening of Komori’s eyes and shook his head, turning away, “I just don’t know what, yet.”</p><p> </p><p>He felt his cousin pat him softly on his back. “You’ll figure it out. Once you start something, you never stop, you know?” He turned and saw his cousin offering him a sly smile, “I never thought I’d be having this conversation with you to be honest. I’m not sure I like it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut it,” Sakusa nudged him away with his elbow, but his cousin just chuckled as they walked from the gymnasium.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>For the next week and a half, things seemed to be fairly back to “normal.”</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa kept with his practices for MSBY, kept with the routines and stretches Iwaizumi assigned him, and…kept in contact with Wakatoshi Ushijima.</p><p> </p><p>That was probably the only thing that changed up his “norm,” his texts with the ace that occurred every other day or so. They were mostly texts about volleyball; clips of games Ushijima would send him, and tweets about the Olympics that Sakusa would share. It was all very innocent and nonchalant, which Sakusa found comforting. The Ushijima he texted was much different than the one still plaguing his dreams. Sakusa felt his cheeks turning crimson just remembering some of the moments from the prior night; the Ushijima of the night lowering himself to run his lips across the spiker’s collarbone.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you not dream things like this in high school?” Komori asked over the phone with a slightly amused sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“I was too busy with volleyball and your antics for anything like that,” Sakusa groaned, “Even if I did like Wakatoshi-kun.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s normal, so quit worrying about it,” his cousin chuckled. “Anyway, I have something to ask you.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Sakusa was in the middle of putting a pasta bake into his oven. He cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, try not to have a panic attack, but Miya-san wants to have you and I come with him to eat for Valentine’s Day.”<br/><br/></p><p>Sakusa paused, as he pushed the pasta into the oven, “That’s a weird request, the three of us out to eat.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s the thing of it…,” Komori sheepishly added, “It would be us, him, and Hinata-san.”</p><p> </p><p>The phone nearly fell to the ground and Sakusa scrambled to save it. “<em>Eh</em>?! What the hell is with that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, it’s strange,” he could tell his cousin was grimacing on the other end of the phone.</p><p> </p><p>“What makes you think I want to third wheel and watch Atsumu fail at flirting with Hinata all night?” Sakusa spat, “And you want to fourth wheel there, too?</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said, it’s not ideal…but…I mean, it wouldn’t be too awful, would it? It’s not like we have anything else to do, eh?” Komori tried to joke.</p><p> </p><p>Truth be told, Ushijima and he hadn’t talked about anything for Valentine’s Day, so truly, he didn’t have any plans. But still, spending the night suffering alongside his cousin while Atsumu tried to woo Hinata? Sakusa’s face scrunched sourly.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, Kiyoomi-kun? I already told Atsumu I’d come…at least join me so it’s not so awkward for me?”</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa sighed. Komori would be the death of him, one of these days. “Fine.”</p><p> </p><p>His cousin breathed audibly, “Thank you so much, Kiyoomi-kun! I’ll let them know!”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It was the day before Valentine’s Day, but Atsumu had insisted they eat the night before.</p><p> </p><p>“He says he’s hoping things go well and he and Hinata can spend Valentine’s Day alone together,” Komori explained as he drove with Sakusa in the passenger seat.</p><p> </p><p>The spiker wretched beside him, “Gross.”</p><p> </p><p>His cousin laughed, “Rude, Kiyoomi-kun!”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s rude is that moron thinking Hinata is going to spend the night with him…he’ll spend Valentine’s Day alone nursing a hangover if anything,” Sakusa crossed his arms at his chest.</p><p> </p><p>They drove for the next few minutes in silence. Komori turned the steering wheel, and the car went up an exit ramp. Sakusa turned and stared behind them, “Hey…Motoya, that wasn’t our turn was it?”</p><p> </p><p>There was a pause, and Sakusa stared at his cousin, who was eerily silent. “Motoya?”</p><p> </p><p>“So…,” Komori slowly turned his gaze towards the spiker, “Don’t be mad with me.”</p><p> </p><p>The curly-haired man frowned, “Why would I be mad?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because I may…have…lied to you,” The libero forced, his voice weakening. “I’m not taking you to eat dinner with Atsumu and Hinata-san.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about?” Sakusa had unfolded his arms and was now leaning forward in his seat, eyes focused on his cousin’s face.</p><p> </p><p>Which was pale, as he motioned towards the glove box. “In there.”</p><p> </p><p>The spiker opened the glove box, and an envelope was laid out on top of the other items in the space. Sakusa gingerly picked the unlabeled envelope and opened it, revealing two long, rectangular documents.</p><p> </p><p>The curly-haired man stared at his cousin incredulously, “Wait…what are…?”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re plane tickets,” Komori breathed, his eyes pleading for forgiveness, “Round trip to Paris.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>AUTHOR’S NOTE:</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Uhm, so yeah. City of love, eh?</p><p> </p><p>Next Chapter: Valentine’s Day, you say?</p><p> </p><p>Thank you so much for reading! I love that you all are enjoying the story.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Heart Virus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa is off to Paris of all places. <br/>Our agoraphobic germaphobe in the City of Love on Valentine’s Day.<br/>Nothing to worry about here. </p><p>I wanted this out in time for Sakusa’s Birthday on the 20th. He deserves it, right?</p><p>I’m so sorry for making you all wait. Life’s been crazy in March, but here we are. <br/>I hope this chapter makes up for the wait! ^^</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sakusa stared for a solid thirty seconds at his cousin, who couldn’t meet his gaze; the libero’s eyes nervously focused ahead. Finally, Komori had to break the silence, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Look, I’m sorry! I knew you wouldn’t come out of your apartment otherwi--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who put you up to this?!” Sakusa waved the plane tickets in his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ushijima-san,” Komori slowly replied, “He asked what he should do for Valentine’s Day with you--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And kidnapping me and forcing me on a plane to Paris for the weekend was your answer?!” Sakusa snapped back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No one’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>forcing </span>
  </em>
  <span>you to go!” His cousin shot back angrily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The car filled with silence. The two glanced at each other and then away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori continued softly, “If you don’t want to go, I’ll tell Ushijima and we’ll see if you can get them refunded.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa shook his head, “They won’t refund them at this point. Besides…,” He sighed heavily, “If Wakatoshi-kun agreed with you on this...he...must have a reason--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>serious</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Komori snapped his head towards Sakusa, incredulous, “The man bought you a </span>
  <em>
    <span>round-trip to Paris </span>
  </em>
  <span>for the weekend. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For Valentine’s Day.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The libero enunciated each word. “I think the reason is pretty self-explanatory.” His voice tapered off with a chuckle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s mind racing; now, he not </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>had to worry about going to an airport, dealing with the people </span>
  <em>
    <span>at </span>
  </em>
  <span>the airport, dealing with flying, dealing with getting off the flight, figuring out what the hell he was doing once that was done...but now there was the added implication that Ushijima was planning for this weekend to be...</span>
  <em>
    <span>romantic</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A word that Sakusa hadn’t rolled off his tongue since his sister tried to get him to read her Shoujo magazines with her during his childhood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The spiker crashed his head into his hands and let out an enormous roar of frustration, so loud that Komori nearly veered the car into the wrong lane. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahh! Almost missed the exit!” He cursed under his breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two were silent the rest of the drive to the airport. The libero practically dragged Sakusa by the edge of his coat through the check-ins and to the gateway for his flight, the spiker too over sensitized with everything happening to function. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Komori tugged at his coat and straightened its collar, looking up at his cousin, “Are you okay? Your flight is going to take off in about twenty minutes, so they’re going to start boarding soon.” He tilted his head slightly, “You’ve seemed zoned out most of the time we’ve been here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do I do?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori blinked. “Eh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s voice was impossibly small, “What do I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Motoya?” His voice cracked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cousin gave Sakusa a pitiful look, forcing a soft smile, “You’ll be alright, Kiyoomi-kun.” He gave the spiker’s chest a gentle pat. “Just have fun this weekend. Ushijima-san isn’t going to do anything you don’t want to, you know that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to get on a plane to a foreign country,” Sakusa glared, “But here we are.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Komori’s smile grew wider, “Here you are. You know what I mean, though. Soak it in, cousin. A little fresh air might do you some good!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two traded remarks for the next few minutes, before Sakusa found himself being ushered onto the plane, glancing nervously back at his cousin, who waved widely his direction before disappearing from sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lowering his arm, Komori let out a long exhale, reaching into his coat pocket. He noticed the missed calls  he had and pressed the phone to his ear as he turned from the gateway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, he’s on the plane.” Komori ran a hand through his hair, letting out a laugh. “Oh, let me tell you…”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a 13-hour non-stop flight to Paris. By the time he’d boarded, it was nearly 7:30 pm, but with Paris eight hours behind Tokyo, he would technically touchdown in Paris around 1:00 am, on Valentine’s Day. It was like traveling back in time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, he didn’t have practice that Monday or Tuesday, when he was scheduled to be back in Tokyo. He almost wondered if the whole Olympic team was in on the situation, but he quickly shook his head of the notion, deciding it was just time on his side for the occasion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But what an occasion it was. Sakusa had 13 hours to stew on it. Luckily, the flight wasn’t full and he had the two seats to himself for the trip, with no one in the row behind him and a timid, elderly man sleeping in the row ahead. No children on board, Sakusa noted, so it was quiet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His foot tapped the carpet; it was only 8:42 and he usually didn’t sleep until 10:00 pm, so he had an hour or so to brood over his predicament before trying to keep with his sleep cycle. But then, Sakura groaned, he would have even more sleep once he arrived because of the time zone difference. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh, why couldn’t Wakatoshi-kun have just come to Tokyo, instead?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa raked his hands through his hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried to call Atsumu to yell at him, because he no doubt had something to do with all of this, but the blonde setter went to voicemail instantly. He thought about calling Yaku, but hesitated.</span>
  <em>
    <span> He probably didn’t know about any of this...right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was about to dial the number when his phone buzzed in his hand. Sakusa nearly dropped it onto the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The name </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wakatoshi </span>
  </em>
  <span>lit up against the screen, it was taking all Sakusa had inside him to muster his fingers to the green button to accept the call. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A deep voice vibrated in his ear, “Sakusa.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wakatoshi-kun,” Sakusa didn’t know whether to be bitter or try to sound cheerful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to apologize.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cut right to the chase, eh? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa’s eyes widened, “For what?” He tried to sound oblivious, but feigning ignorance had never been the spiker’s forte. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was told you were on the plane, so I decided it was best to call you after you’d been in the air long enough.” Ushijima’s voice was monotone, but Sakusa could detect an air of caution in his words. “I was told you had no idea about this until you were taken to the airport.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did  he mean for me to know ahead of time? </span>
  </em>
  <span>“You’re right,” Sakusa sighed, crossing his legs, “Quite the elaborate kidnapping scheme.” He normally wouldn’t be this sassy and forward with the ace, but Sakusa was grumpy and the man coughing two rows back wasn’t helping his mood improve any. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was not meant to be that way,” Ushijima sighed, sounding exasperated for him. “Tendo was the one who suggested the idea of you visiting me while I was here, and your cousin instantly agreed with him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course he did</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sakusa rolled his eyes, trying his best to push down the wave of jealousy rolling through him at the mention of the former middle Blocker’s name. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That made sense to why Paris was the location of choice…</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Were you already in Paris?” Sakura found himself asking without thinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could imagine the ace nodding on the other end of the line, “Yes. I was here to interview for Tendo’s show. It is going to air next month in March.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wave of jealousy rippled through the spiker, “Oh? That’s interesting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are filming it tonight, but I should be done by the time your plane lands.” Ushijima continued. “Tendo is letting us stay at his condo.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa flinched, “At his condo?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it has a master bedroom and a guest room,” Ushijima paused, then added, “And a couch, so there will be plenty of space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The spiker shifted uncomfortably in his seat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The pause in his voice</span>
  </em>
  <span>; Sakusa realized he was implying that there </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a couch...</span>
  <em>
    <span>But it didn’t have to necessarily be used</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Ah, I see,” Sakusa felt emboldened to change the subject, “What did you have in mind for when I got there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was planning to meet you at the airport,” Ushijima explained, “I have been told some items you might be interested in for that daytime, and then I have dinner planned for us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Items?” Sakusa frowned, “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your cousin gave me a list of things you might be interested in while you are here,” Ushijima replied, adding with a slight upturn to his voice. “I am hoping he knows you well enough.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not well enough to know I’m going to strangle him in his sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- “Oh, yes, he does,” Sakusa tried to sound as happy as he could muster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a pause on the other end for a few seconds. “I am sorry, Sakusa.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The spiker felt a prickling sensation sweep through him. It wasn’t dread, or anger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to apologize to me, Wakatoshi-kun.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel I do; you clearly did not want to do this.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sadness, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa realized. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ushijima sounded upset</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The spiker straightened in his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t hear that,” Sakusa replied, his mouth a firm line, “I didn’t have to get on that plane if I didn’t want to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you are fine with flying here?” It was the ace’s turn for his voice to sound small. Sakusa didn’t know how that was possible, but he found himself leaning forward in his seat, the phone pressed harder to his ear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Wakatoshi-kun. I’m looking forward to seeing you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa remained on the phone for nearly another hour, before ending his call and attempting to sleep the rest of the flight. It surprisingly worked, as a stewardess calmly told him they were about to land, jostling him from his slumber. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The spiker rubbed his eyes as he stepped into the boarding area. Ushijima wasn’t hard to spot, taller than several of the bystanders, and more muscular. But he was also easy to spot because a man with shaved red hair was standing right next to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tendo</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Sakusa felt his stomach twist, but forced his mouth shut. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Saku-san!!” The redhead waved his arm emphatically. Ushijima raised a single hand without waving, which Sakusa was thankful for. The two were dressed in nice wool coats and sweaters, looking impeccably nice, but then Sakusa remembered, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Their television interview was tonight.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was the remainder of your flight good?” Ushijima inquired as they made their way to the baggage claim.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I slept through it all, so I guess so,” Sakusa stretched his arms above his head. He normally would be on high alert in a new place, with all of the foreign entities around him. Yet, somehow, with the ace walking beside him, he seemed to let some of that stress fall off his shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or perhaps he was just too tired from the flight. Sakusa couldn’t decide at this point. </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sleep started to take hold of Sakusa as they neared Tendo’s condo; the taxi ride was quiet most of the way. Tendo was busy in the front seat chatting with the driver, as Ushijima and Sakusa sat in the back. The spiker couldn’t help but think of the cab in Tokyo he and Ushijima had shared not so long ago, and he found himself smiling at the memory. The ace couldn’t see through his mask, though. The fatigue rattling his body, Sakusa felt his shoulders slump ever so slightly against the ace, his head leaning to rest on the top of Ushijima’s arm. The ace glanced down at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tired?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm,” Sakusa nodded, his curly hair brushing against the ace’s wool coat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re almost there,” Ushijima noted, taking his hand out of his coat pocket and finding Sakusa’s. His hand was gloved, so that -- and perhaps Sakusa’s added tiredness -- allowed him not to mind as the ace intertwined his fingers with the spiker’s, their long fingers linking as they rode the rest of the way in silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tendo’s condo was on the third story of a beautiful, old-fashioned Parisian apartment. Sakusa noticed as they walked inside a pair of doors leading from the living room onto the balcony where a white-washed railing came before a gorgeous view of the city streets below. Ushijima led Sakusa to the guest room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t even really pack any clothing,” Sakusa realized, his face scrunching into a grimace. “I was halfway here when I realized.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima sighed and motioned to the corner of the room, where a small black duffel bag sat in the corner. Sakusa stared at it. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>duffel bag. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you be disturbed to know your cousin sent your bag here this last week with clothes for the next two days and extra toiletries?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt a weight lift off his shoulders, “Not really, since I know now why he was sneaking around my apartment last week. You really thought this out…” He turned and stared at the guest bed. It was Queen-sized, so plenty big for himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And…</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Wakatoshi-kun?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight,” Ushijima motioned towards the living room. “Don’t argue; you’ve had a long flight here,” he added, as Sakusa started to open his mouth. The spiker closed it and felt his cheeks burn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you...Wakatoshi-kun,” He started, then inhaled deeply as he saw the ace take a step forward, into his space. Their eyes were nearly level with each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa,” The ace’s deep voice rumbled, “I am glad you came here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was comfort in Ushijiima’s voice, like an extra blanket being laid over him. Sakusa didn’t retreat from the close proximity, his dark eyes gazing back at hazel. “I’m glad to be here,” was all he could say. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“May I kiss you goodnight?” Ushijima’s hands wrapped around Sakusa’s forearms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sleep was starting to cloud his eyes, but Sakusa nodded, “Yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as he said it, he felt Ushijima’s lips upon his. Still soft, slightly chaffed, but Sakusa felt the ace tilt his head to deepen the kiss; the ace’s arms sliding from Sakusa’s arms to around his waist, holding him close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two stood in a locked embrace and kissed for a moment, before Sakusa withdrew and laid his forehead on Ushijima’s shoulder. “Goodnight, Wakatoshi-kun,” the spiker whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Sakusa,” the deep voice replied, as the spiker felt the ace pull away. The air felt colder around him instantly as he saw Ushijima retreat towards the couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa closed the bedroom door behind him. He was so fatigued, he almost crashed into the bed with his current clothes on; yet, the alarms in his mind told him he needed to shower. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So tired,” Sakusa groaned, as he rummaged through the duffel bag. Luckily, his cousin knew him well, and packed accordingly for him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I won’t strangle him in his sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the spiker mused, heading towards the bathroom; the feeling of Ushijima’s lips still fresh upon his own. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa would give Tendo credit that he had good taste in mattresses and well...many things in fact. The apartment, now that Sakusa could actually look around once awake. Glancing at the apartment, it didn’t look like what he’d expect from the wild-haired (or once wild-haired) chef. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s more French than I expected,” Sakusa noted as Tendo served them poached eggs for breakfast. “Your apartment, that is.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was decorated like this when I leased it,” Tendo smiled, “so I can’t take the credit. But I didn’t see the need to change anything, so thanks!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you sleep well?” Ushijima said over breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded, “Better than expected. So…,” He looked between the two, “What are we doing today?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tendo laughed, “Don’t look at me! I have a pastry shop meeting at 10 am and then I’m spending the rest of the day at the restaurant. Wakatoshi-kun has you </span>
  <em>
    <span>allllll </span>
  </em>
  <span>to himself today.” He winked towards Sakusa, who flinched, unsure what to make of this red-headed chef. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>A cemetery was not where he’d imagined Ushijima would take him first. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But...why?” Sakusa walked behind Ushijima, as the walkway was a little narrow for them. Fortunately, there wasn’t hardly anyone in the cemetery near them, so they walked in peace alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima didn’t reply, though, until they reached a certain headstone of the Pere Lachaise. An angelic woman sat, looking down at a man’s bust engraved into polished stone. Sakusa stood beside the ace and looked down, his eyes widening. A laminated marker noted the name of the grave’s inhabitant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Frederic...Chopin?” Sakusa breathed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s your favorite composer, isn’t he?” Ushijima turned his head towards him. “Your cousin told me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa nodded, his eyes gazing over the headstone. The stone was perfectly polished, clean, despite its hundred years of wear from the weather. “Yes,” He whispered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two stood in the quiet of the Pere Lachaise side-by-side, the sunlight filtering onto them from beneath the trees; Sakusa basking in the serene calm of the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After walking through the Parisian streets, Ushijima took him next to Saint Chapelle’s cathedral. Similar to the cemetery, it was quiet inside; with only a few people filtering in and out. Sakusa was utterly fascinated by the intricate mosaic windows; millions of fragments of colored glass casting rainbows of light across the high halls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s beautiful,” Sakusa breathed, as the two walked down the aisles of the cathedral. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt the ace’s eyes on him, and the ace’s hand sliding into the spiker’s. He didn’t pull away, though. Something about it being Ushijima’s hand made it...fine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you bring me to a cemetery and a cathedral?” Sakusa teased lightly, as the two stood at the foot of the church. “Trying to tell me something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you hate crowds,” Ushijima noted simply, “These places seemed like they would be ideal in that regard.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa blinked at him. “Did my cousin tell you that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima blinked back, “No. I just noticed...watching you...at tournaments.” The ace looked away and Sakusa leaned around, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you -- are you blushing, Wakatoshi-kun?!” Sakusa prodded with his elbow, trying to get the ace to twist his way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima wouldn’t face him. “Please calm down, Sakusa. We’re in a church.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner was more lively, and Sakusa felt slightly out of place in such a fancy restaurant wearing jeans and a black dress shirt. Ushijima sat opposite him, in black slacks and a white dress shirt. “I forgot to tell your cousin we were going here for dinner,” Ushijima admitted with a small frown.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Sakusa shrugged, as the waiter came with a bottle of champagne for them, setting it on the table. The spiker eyed the bottle and then the ace, whose cheeks were barely tinged with pink. “When in Paris?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Indeed,” Ushijima nodded, pouring them each a glass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two talked about their matches over the past few weeks and how things were progressing through to the Olympics. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is your family coming to watch?” Ushijima poured another glass of champagne. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doubtful,” Sakusa took a drink. “My parents are older and would hate the crowds. My sister is moving to Australia for work over this summer and my brother is a doctor, so I doubt he’ll have the time.” He glanced back at Ushijima, realizing he’d spoken for a while. “What about yours?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Ushijima shrugged. “My mother is not...fond of volleyball, so I doubt it.” Sakusa tilted his head as the ace added, “My father should be there with the American team, so he’ll likely be there while we play.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your mother doesn’t like volleyball? But you played from middle school through high school?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She tolerated it because it allowed me a scholarship to Shiratorizawa,” Ushijima noted, before taking a sip of Champagne. “She always said it reminded her too much of my father.” He quieted into his drink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa sighed, “My family never really cared for it either...they probably thought it was just good I was occupied by something.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two silenced and stared at one another. Finally, Ushijima turned to the near-empty champagne bottle. “Is that worth another glass, you think?” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stood atop the Eiffel Tower. Sakusa had never been scared of heights, but he had to admit that while tipsy from the Champagne, he felt slightly dizzy looking down as the wind hit his face. He felt Ushijima near him, his wool coat pulled tight over his frame, and Sakusa couldn’t resist reaching for the ace and linking his arms into his. It reminded him of their walk in the park, except they were quite stationary here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are quite clingy after drinks,” Ushijima noted as he turned to him, his breath hot on the spiker’s forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I don’t drink often,” Sakusa mumbled into the ace’s shoulder, “I hate clinging to sweaty, smelly people and ending up with their odor all over me…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you’re clinging to me,” Ushijima raised a hand and ran it over his glossy black curls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You smell nice,” Sakusa countered, “Like...spice and….cleanliness.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ace let out a soft chuckle, “Those seem contradictory.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s hard to describe,” Sakusa lifted his head, “But I love it--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stopped and stared at Ushijima, whose hazel eyes were gleaming in the Paris lights.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa leaned back, “What I mean to say...I mean...I would love anyone that didn’t smell bad--” He stopped and backtracked, “Wait--I didn’t -- What I meant was--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima and a hand across the spiker’s neck, drawing him closer. “You don’t have to say anything else.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll stop digging my grave now,” Sakusa smirked and leaned forward, his lips meeting Ushijima’s, huddling together to combat the cold air around them. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two stumbled into the condo after a quick cab ride home. Luckily, Tendo’s condo was not far from the restaurant and Eiffel tower they last visited. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt Ushijima’s breath against his neck. “Sakusa,” he whispered against his skin and the spiker felt a chill ripple through him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s so cold,” the dark-haired man wrapped his arms around Ushijima’s wool coat, the buzz of the champagne still running through his veins. He knew it was a ruse, but the liquor in his system spurned him on. Ushijima started to take off his coat, causing Sakusa to have to pull away from the ace. “Didn’t you hear me?” Sakusa teased, his cheeky rosy, “It’s cold and you’re taking your coat off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can’t sleep in our coats, can we?” Ushijima offered a smile, visible in the moonlight filtering into the apartment through the large windows, and Sakusa felt himself melting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose not,” the spiker pouted. He looked around the dark apartment. “Where’s Tendo-san?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’s voice, though deep was softer than normal., “He’s gone until tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa pulled away, his head flashing back towards the ace, “Eh?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He had to travel to Versailles for a meeting and is staying overnight there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The spiker studied the ace’s unreadable expression, “Did you ask him to stay overnight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, he offered.” Ushijima replied simply, though his voice seemed hesitant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Sakusa felt the tension enter the room, a new element added to the moment. His eyes traveled across Ushijima’s face, down his neck, to his dress shirt. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What do I do? Do I try to take it off? That seems so sudden...do we kiss more? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He ran a hand across the ace’s chest and felt Ushijima’s breath hitch slightly.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Do I make a move? Does he? Once you start something, you know you’ll have to finish it. But it’s fine, you’re alone. We’re alone...god, we’re alone...this is a mistake; it’s too soon...I...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “I...I think I should shower.” He pulled away from the ace, his eyes hitting the floor. “I feel a little grimy from today.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’s face fell, but he recovered quickly. “Oh, okay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s it? ‘Okay?’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sakusa frowned, his eyes still not meeting the ace’s. He almost expected a protest, but then...Ushijima was a gentleman, if anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just...I’m still a little tipsy from the champagne and I…,” he was making excuses at this point, but he couldn’t help it. Luckily, the ace didn’t seem phased. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” the ace’s voice echoed through the living room, “I don’t want to force you to do anything like this…” His voice trailed, too, but Sakusa could sense an air of disappointment in his voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The spiker turned and walked towards the bathroom, leaving the ace standing in the moonlight. Sakusa wouldn’t deny that he shared in his disappointment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shower was quick and he came into the bedroom to see it still made. His hair towel-dried and plain shirt and sweatpants on, he looked over the corner and saw Ushijima standing in the kitchen in similar garb. He had showered as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Sakusa edged near him. “I just...I’m not ready yet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima gave him a small understanding smile, “I gathered as much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You went to all of this trouble, though,” Sakusa shook his head, “The dinner, the champagne, I--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sakusa,” Ushijima’s frown faded as he took a step towards him, “I didn’t bring you here under the guise to have sex.” His hazel eyes scanned the spiker’s “I was going to be here on Valentine’s Day...and I wanted to spend it with you.” There was a pause, “That’s all.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The curly-haired spiker stared, his mouth slightly open. “That’s all?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima smiled -- a genuine smile -- “Yes, that’s all I wanted.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa leaned forward and collapsed his head onto the ace’s chest, exhaling slowly. “Are you...ever...not perfect?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perfect? What are you saying?” The ace raised a brow slightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The black-haired man sighed and leaned his head back, his eyes meeting Ushijima’s, “I’m still searching for your flaws.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re not hard to find,” the ace offered matter-of-factly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just stop,” Sakusa smirked, “Come on,” He gripped Ushijima’s hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” The ace stared at Sakusa’s hand in his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch,” Sakusa gave the ace a slightly sly grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Ushijima squeezed the spiker’s hand. “You don’t have to force anything if you don’t want --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You and I are dating,” Sakusa cut him off, “This isn’t the eighteenth century, is it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima had no answer to that, as Sakusa led him to the guest bedroom. The spiker pulled back the cover and climbed in on the left hand side. He noticed Ushijima pause and then move to the other side. “Let me guess,” he sighed, “You normally sleep on this side?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” the ace pulled the covers back and climbed in beside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa turned over to where they were facing each other. In bed, the spiker naturally curled his body, so he appeared shorter than Ushijima. He felt the ace’s hand on his hip, and he laid his own hand over the top of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ushijima,” Sakusa felt his cheeks flare, “I...can we kiss a bit before we go to sleep?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ace nodded, a small smile playing on his face as he leaned in, his face melding against Sakusa’s. Their kisses started slow and soft, then started to grow slightly quicker, deeper. Sakusa felt the ace’s tongue slide against his bottom lip. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s new...do I…? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He reflexively opened his mouth and in the next kiss, Ushijima’s tongue slid inside his mouth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa nearly pulled back, but was afraid to ruin the moment any more than he already had tonight. He felt his eyes shutting tighter, as he took his own tongue and tried to mimic the movement. Ushijima hummed, his deep voice echoing through the spiker, who shivered in response. The ace pulled away from the kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, fine,” Sakusa exhaled, his face warm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two kissed a little longer, Ushijima’s hand wandering from Sakusa’s hip up his side and over his arms. The spiker, feeling inexperienced, ran his hand up to graze Ushijima’s back. For Sakusa, it was just right. He was easing into this intimacy and it was paced where he didn’t feel overwhelmed. An Ushijima, being ever-the-gentleman, never questioned anything; following the spiker’s lead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, the two felt the fatigue of the day weighing on them, and Ushijima asked if Sakusa was okay with resting against him. Despite his initial concern with proximity, Sakusa nodded and relaxed, sinking back into the coziness of Ushijima’s arms. He gave a long yawn, and closed his eyes, “I’ve never slept with anyone since Motoya and I stayed at each others’ houses as children. You?” He was sure the answer would be mutual, but felt obligated to ask.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa’s eyes snapped open, but he couldn’t say a word. Every thought, every question spurned by those two words was trapped in this throat, unable to make it any further. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laid in Ushijima’s arms, the two encased in silence. As he nodded off to sleep, he wanted to savor the moment of being in his boyfriend’s arms, those that he’d dreamt of resting in since high school.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yet...he couldn’t quite savor it. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE: </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time Zones are a pain, y’all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This chapter had lots of “parts” but I wanted to convey their day together in pieces like that. And ahhh, forgive me, I said there’d be slight angst, didn’t I? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But they’ll be fine, I’m sure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thanks so much for reading! I really appreciate it!</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Raison Strain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Part Two of Valentine’s Weekend.<br/>Sakusa has never really been jealous...he’s not jealous now. <br/>No, of course not.<br/>He’s just…<br/>...</p><p>NOTE: Between Grad School and work, I’ve been sadly busy -- so sorry for the wait!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sunlight filtered behind Sakusa, his arm warming in the morning glow; the blanket had slid down to his wrist and resting at his hip. A broad hand gripped him, still, though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He remained cradled in Ushijima’s arms, the spiker savoring the soft rise of the ace’s chest behind him. Sakusa didn’t dare move at first, afraid to wake him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes, though, he started to feel constricted and the dark-haired spiker silently began to stretch his body, when he noticed something firm bumping him at the base of his spine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something large</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- Realization suddenly struck, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Sakusa gasped and jerked forward, sitting up. It wasn’t enough to immediately wake Ushijima, but the ace -- arm now draped over Sakusa’s thigh -- squeezed against him gently. Sakusa flinched, but found himself leaning into the gesture. It felt nice to wake up next to someone, to feel that immediate warmth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Ushijima’s voice rumbled softly, his eyes still closed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa brushed the curls from his eyes, trying to calm his flared face, “N-nothing.” He glanced down at the ace, noticing how the sunlight haloed his brunette hair. The sight calmed him for a moment, as he let out a sigh and, “Good morning.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ace smiled, slowly opening his eyes and glancing up at Sakusa. The hand on the spiker's thigh squeezed gently, and a thrill jolted up the dark-haired man’s spine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Good morning.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kiyoomi-kunnnnn</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Tendo’s voice echoed melodiously on the speaker, “Is Wakatoshi-kun making you something good, I hope?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa had Ushijima’s phone splayed open in his palm, speaker on while the ace across the kitchen island was hovering over a skillet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, bacon, eggs, and rice with pepper and sesame.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s his go-to,” Tendo hummed on the other line, “When is your flight, Kiyoomi-kun?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not until this evening,” Sakusa looked up at the ace, whose expression was unreadable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahh, good; at least you and Wakatoshi-kun can spend the day together!” Tendo crooned, “I won’t be back until tomorrow, so help yourself to anything you want while you’re still there!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa tilted his head, “Oh? Do you have another meeting today?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nooo,” Tendo’s voice turned devilish, “Well...I suppose it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>technically a meeting--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll make sure to keep your apartment in order,” Ushijima’s deep voice interrupted the former middle blocker. Sakusa blinked, it was the first time he’d spoken during the phone call. “You don’t have to worry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tendo laughed from the other end of the line, “Oh, Wakatoshi-kun! So dependable! You really should hold onto him, Kiyoomi-ku---”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We won’t keep you,” Ushijima reached away from the stove and grabbed the phone from Sakusa’s hand, “Thank you, Tendo.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wakato--</span>
  </em>
  <span>” but Ushijima had hung up on him already. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa stared as the ace set the phone down and turned back to his skillet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhm,” Sakusa stared, “What--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want your eggs poached or over easy?” Ushijima turned back to him, as if nothing had happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa raised an eyebrow, “Poached, thank you, but also...what was that all about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’s turn to stare, “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What meeting is Tendo at? And also,” Sakusa leaned forward, his eyes gazing at the ace with a tease, “Why were you in such a hurry to hang up?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ace stared at the skillet, as if contemplating his answer, “No particular reason…breakfast was almost done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa rolled his eyes, “Okay, then,” sarcasm dripped on his tongue. He paused, head cradled in his palm, thinking back, “Tendo said he had a meeting today...it’s Sunday, though. How strange,” He looked at the ace expectedly; Ushijima shrugged, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was likely a date.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Eh</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Sakusa raised his head from his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s been on dates with someone from that city the past year,” Ushijima noted nonchalantly, as he readied their plates with food. But there was a tinge to his tone that Sakusa felt was almost...</span>
  <em>
    <span>jealous? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The spiker contemplated his words as Ushijima laid the food in front of them on the kitchen island. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Was Tendo the one who had slept with Ushijima before?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He didn’t want to think about it, but ever since last night, Sakusa couldn’t get out of his mind the fact that the ace had been with someone prior to him. He glanced over at Ushijima, who had taken a particularly large bite of bacon with his rice.</span>
  <em>
    <span> No...how could you constantly be around someone you’d slept with and broken up with? That couldn’t be right...but...then why did he seem jealous of Tendo?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did I overcook the eggs?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was snapped away from his thoughts, noticing the concerned look crossing the ace’s face. He realized that he hadn’t even taken a bite of breakfast, yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No! No, I’m sure it’s going to be delicious! I just,” Sakusa took a bite of rice and egg to confirm. “That’s really good!”</span>
  <em>
    <span> It was, actually</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “Thank you...I just...was thinking of what we were going to do today.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>A clean alibi</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima’s face softened, seemingly satisfied with his answer. A smile spread across his face and Sakusa wished he could have photographed it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can do whatever you please.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever Sakusa pleased turned into a day of strolling the markets, downtown in the city, eating far too many pastries -- Sakusa discovered Ushijima was not particularly a fan of sweets -- and just discussing the Olympics and everything leading up to practices. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Us dating,” Sakusa mulled over his drink; the two of them had stopped at a café for lunch, “do you think it will cause problems with the team?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doubtful,” Ushijima tilted his head after taking a drink, “Didn’t you say Atsumu Miya was trying to date Hinata Shoyo?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Sakusa rolled his eyes, “Trying and doing are two totally different things…” He glanced up and noticed Ushijima staring at him wide-eyed. “W-what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the ace let out a hearty, deep laugh, and sat back in his seat. Sakusa straightened; he’d never seen the ace laugh out loud, much less in such a boisterous way. It was strange, it was almost out of character --</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- it was something Sakusa wanted to see him do again and again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry,” Ushijima silenced himself, finally, “but that was quite humorous. I thought it was strange for Miya to go after Hinata, as well.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ace’s laughter calmed and Sakusa felt he’d just witnessed something all his own, that no one else had ever seen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His lips curled into a knowing smile, “Isn’t it the strangest thing?” And for a moment, the twinge of jealousy and bitterness in his mouth seemed to dissipate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it didn’t entirely fade away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It gnawed at Sakusa that he, who had little to no intimate experience aside from kissing Ushijima, was going to be in comparison in the ace’s mind with someone else. He knew this was a selfish thought, and a futile one; but that didn’t make it disappear any easier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Should he bring it up to Wakatoshi? Would that make him seem desperate? Would it cause Wakatoshi to back away?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sakusa crossed and gripped his forearms. Sakusa had spent all these years waiting for the chance to be with Ushijima; now that he actually was, he was terrified that he’d ruin it all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa tried not to let his worries ruin their afternoon, as they traveled through public gardens. The dark-haired man had noticed how Ushijima loved nature. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s calming,” The ace shrugged slightly, when Sakusa questioned him. “My father and I hiked a lot during my childhood near our home.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pictured Ushijima as a child, playing volleyball with his father on a dirt patch outside his family’s rural homestead. It was a direct contrast with Sakusa’s upbringing, which felt cold and metallic in comparison. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a flood of realization to Sakusa. Komori had spent years telling him how similar he and Ushijima were, on and off the court.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You both are the aces of your teams...and probably the best spikers here at Nationals!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You both basically had the same childhood -- being practically only children and all!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You both hate socializing, though! How will you carry on a conversation?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But in truth, his cousin couldn’t be more wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>True, they were both incredible spikers, lucky to be born with their talents. However, Ushijima’s childhood was vastly different from Sakusa’s. His parents may have divorced, and may have only seen one parent at a time with no siblings, but his family was </span>
  <em>
    <span>present</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Sakusa, conversely, had a large family but felt so isolated growing up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Sakusa couldn’t say that the two of them hate socializing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that I hate people,” Sakusa muttered, kneeling over a patch of roses in the garden. “Well, not most people,” he reconsidered, “I just hate small talk.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima stood behind him, nodding, “I’ve never understood the point of speaking without purpose.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And their conversations weren’t without purpose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two could converse; about volleyball, about their families, about where they’d lived, travel, etc. Part of him wished he could record his conversations with Ushijima to show the world they weren’t silent, stoic monoliths. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then, that wasn’t anyone’s business, was it? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They arrived back at the condo after their garden walk; sparring a few hours before Sakusa would need to be in the airport for his flight. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The door shut behind Sakusa and the spiker heard the lock click. “Making sure Tendo-san doesn’t surprise us at the last minute?” The spiker joked with a chuckle to his voice, but it silenced when he turned and found Ushijima’s arms wrapping around his lower back, slowly drawing the dark-haired man closer to him. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose,” Ushijima murmured, his breath hot over Sakusa’s ear, as his voice asked tenderly, “Is this fine?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa felt his stomach flutter, as his chest was flush with Ushijima in an embrace. He curled his arms around the ace’s back as well, though not as low. The curly-haired man let his mouth linger just above the junction of Ushijima’s neck and collarbone. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Sakusa finally found his voice, </span>
  <em>
    <span>How could it not be?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I just...I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima pulled his head away, still embracing Sakusa; his hazel eyes searching, “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid of doing something wrong,” The dark-haired spiker finally admitted, feeling his face flush. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The ace stared at him for a moment, hazel eyes scanning over his features, before his brow furrowed, “I don’t understand.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa let out a small huff, settling into Ushijima’s arms and tilting his head so his forehead rested on the ace’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel in volleyball, I can practice to the ends of the earth to perfect my technique and the effort doesn’t feel harmful or wasted…” He felt the ace flinch as he breathed against his shoulder. “But here -- this? If I make a mistake --”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Then, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa blinked and lifted his head, meeting the ace’s gaze. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly, “We’ll both likely make mistakes,” the ace reasoned, “Since we don’t know what the other prefers.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes, but--” but the ace cut Sakusa off.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You speak like this is different from volleyball, but...how is it?” Ushijima smiled softly, “One cannot be perfect in this from the start...it takes time,” his hand braved lower, sliding down Sakusa’s back and lower, “and practice.” His hand lightly squeezed a cheek and Sakusa let out a gasp of air. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Their eyes met and Ushijima’s gaze was molten. It took all Sakusa had to reply, feeling his voice crack slightly, “T-that works for me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ace let out an lithe laugh, and in a swift motion, he reached under Sakusa and -- defying all odds and causing the spiker to yelp -- scooped Sakusa off the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wakatoshi--” Sakusa started, but Ushijima had surged forward and crashed his lips against the spiker’s, cutting him off. He melted into the ace’s kiss as they started back towards the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima set Sakusa down and leaned the opposite direction to start drawing the bath in the tub. Sakusa stared at the tub with great trepidation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is he expecting us to…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Will the tub be big enough for the two of us?” He blurted out, instantly clamping his mouth shut, realizing he was killing the mood.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima didn’t seem affected, though, as he turned back towards the spiker with a small smile, “Should we find out?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa gulped, “I--,” He stared at the tub, “--erm, maybe French tubs are larger than Japa--” he stopped mid-sentence as Ushijima unbuttoned his dress shirt and stripped it to the floor. Sakusa’s mouth ran dry, “--nese.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The two undressed in silence, hazel and onyx eyes scanning over each other’s bodies; every ridge of muscle, definitive line of their hips; the spoils of their training on display. They hadn’t touched each other in the slightest, and he couldn’t deny the eroticism of it all and its effect on both of them.  Sakusa felt his face flaring, but luckily, Ushijima had turned his attention towards lowering into the hot bath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa joined momentarily later, lowering into the water. It seemed illogical, but the two fit -- tightly -- into the tub. The water rose to cover their chests. The way Sakusa sat, the ace and spiker faced one another, in silence a moment before the curly-haired man honed the courage stirring in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You could...you could sit back,” Sakusa motioned towards himself, his eyes slowly meeting Ushijima’s, “and I could help wash you off.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The ace nodded and briefly rose from the bath to turn around, giving Sakusa a full view, which caused the spiker to momentarily lose his breath. Luckily, Ushijima sat with his back now to Sakusa, leaning back into the spiker’s arms. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Better?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes,” Sakusa nodded sheepishly, drawing the washcloth and soap. He ran the cloth and soap over the ace’s arms, chest, and then sank his arm lower in the bath, until…</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, do I? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The spiker hesitated, the idea rolling across his mind like a marble rolling in a bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead,” Ushijima’s deep voice shattered through Sakusa’s thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A deep exhale left Sakusa, as he skirted his hand lower in the bath, gathering around the ace and slowly stroking against the pressure of the water. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima sighed and laid his head backwards to rest atop Sakusa’s shoulder. Feeling bold, he tilted his head to whisper in the ace’s ear, “Does that feel good?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” the ace replied with a trembling breath, his eyes closing. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a while since Sakusa had felt so satisfied by someone’s approval, as well as thankful for his flexible wrists. After a few minutes, though, Ushijima sat up and tilted slightly; Sakusa paused, fearing he’d done something wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me bath you, now,” the ace’s voice rumbled, as he turned in the tub, until the two were facing each other again. He took a second washcloth from the side of the tub and lathered it before starting the same process with the spiker. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa was curious why Ushijima had stopped him so soon, but said nothing, allowing the ace to slide the soapy cloth over his body in a similar fashion. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The ace reached a similar point that Sakusa had just been to prior, and Sakusa looked down at the water and then back up to meet Ushijima’s eyes. The two shared a look, an unspoken acknowledgment -- </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead,” Sakusa mirrored the ace, savoring the way Ushijima’s lips curled at the words. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He felt the washcloth move lower down his abdomen and inhaled, drinking in the sensation beneath the warm waters. He instinctively moved forward and felt his fingers graze the side of Ushijima’s thigh. He exhaled, his gaze rising to meet the ace’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“May I?” Sakusa tried to hide the shakiness in his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“As if you have to ask,” The ace replied expectantly, while letting out a breathy chuckle. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was something Sakusa loved about the quiet intimacy between them. The silence was broken by breaths and sighs; Sakusa’s sharp inhale and Ushijima’s low, barely audible laugh. It was nothing but their touch, their breathing, and their heavy gazes at one another as they slid closer against the waters. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa could feel his heart pounding in his chest as Ushijima drew him closer, the wash cloth long abandoned as the ace wrapped one of his arms around the spiker, grasping at his back. Sakusa had his other hand resting low on the ace’s back, rubbing small circles as the two drew nearer. His head rolled, his cheek against Ushijima’s shoulder as his breath grew heavier. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Waka--toshi--kun,” Sakusa’s was panting slightly, looking towards the ace. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ushijima didn’t speak, his chin resting on the point of the spiker’s shoulder, but Sakusa could feel him nodding against his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The bath water had cooled, but Sakusa still felt a sheen of sweat coat him as he and Ushijima plateaued, Sakusa slumping his head in the crook of Ushijima’s neck to mask his voice, while the ace’s head raised into the steamy air, letting out a low moan that had Sakusa’s face instantly reddening. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Drawing the spiker away from his neck, Ushijima exhaled a shaky laugh. “Your face is so red, even though I was the loud one.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t even,” Sakusa waved his hand dismissively, as the ace chuckled more. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they dried off, dressed, and gathered up Sakusa’s things -- including the bags Komori had mailed -- they set off for the airport. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Our next practice together is in a few weeks,” Sakusa stared at the airport carpet as they waited in line to have his bags checked. “Will you be near Tokyo before then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I might,” Ushijima hoisted one of Sakusa’s bags on the check-in, “if I’m in the city, do you want to go out for dinner one night?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa didn’t know how anyone could tell him no. “Yes, I’d enjoy that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They made it to the boarding area and the spiker felt an emptiness gnaw at his stomach. He didn’t want to leave the ace’s side just yet. An announcement that the spiker’s plane was boarding rang out on the speaker. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Sakusa spoke up suddenly, drawing Ushijima’s attention, “For this weekend, and...everything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ace’s eyes widened, before a knowing smile grew across his face. “I am glad you enjoyed it, as well.” He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Sakusa’s cheek, right above his mask. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sakusa couldn’t help but smile as he nodded and waved, turning to board his flight. “Talk to you soon,” he added, hoping Ushijima would ignore the pink spreading across his face and neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the plane took off, Sakusa leaned back in his seat. His stomach was still full of butterflies; it was hard to believe he was leaving Paris in such a different place than he had been coming in. He rubbed his temples, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I probably should thank Motoya, after all…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was nearly asleep in the air when his phone buzzed. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling it out of his jacket quickly, he hoped it was Ushijima, but was instantly put off when he saw the screen, his face falling to a frown. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Atsumu Miya:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> OMI-OMI! DID YOU GET THE EMAIL?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa sighed, and frantically tapped his fingers on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Sakusa:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> No, I’ve not been on my email all weekend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The setter’s reply was near-instant: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Atsumu Miya:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> CHECK IT! We’re getting interviewed next weekend! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sakusa blinked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Interviewed? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><hr/><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>AUTHOR’S NOTE: </b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I hope that was worth the wait! :) At least the Valentine’s Weekend ended well, right? </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Next chapter...back to our...regularly scheduled program? Maybe, maybe not!</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked the chapter!</span>
</p>
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